Geryn The Breton
by Alex Corbin
Summary: An apprentice mage leaves the ruined Imperial City in search for a better magical education, in the far north College of Winterhold. However, the journey is not quite as straight forward as he expected...
1. Chapter 1

Geryn looked up at the border gate that he was swiftly approaching, which blocked his way from Cyrodiil to Skyrim. He had previously lived in the Imperial City, but after months of trying to enjoy a decent life and practice his magic in peace in the ruin of a city, he had decided that it was pointless. The Great War had ravaged the capital of The Empire, leaving it a dreary old shadow of its former, beautiful and majestic self. Geryn sighed. He had been born and raised in that city, and wasn't old enough to remember the Great War, so the dank old ruin was really all he had ever known. His parents had done their best to teach him restoration and alteration magic, but the combination of Thalmor soldiers who snuffed out anyone who posed them a threat and the lack of resources had meant that his education had been very restricted. He would have applied for the Mage's Guild of Cyrodiil, but the organisation had long since become much more concerned with politics than anything else, which was why he was heading for Skyrim, as he had heard that their place of learning magic, The College of Winterhold, had no such concerns.  
He was a short, skinny Breton, with a head of thick dark brown hair that just about reached his eyes, which were greenish brown. His face was usually clean shaven, but today was slightly fuzzy as he had been travelling the Cyrodiilic countryside for a good few days. He wore a simple brown tunic and a beige cowl, and had a satchel slung over his shoulder, which contained his money and a meagre amount of alchemical supplies, along with some dwindling food rations.  
A rain drop fell on Geryn's nose. He looked up and saw that the sun was blocked out by a dull grey veil of clouds, so pulled his cowl over his head. As he reached the gate, he noticed two things. Firstly, nobody was watching the gate, which was extremely unusual given the people of Skyrim's severe dislike of outsiders. Secondly, he saw that the gate had been left ever so slightly open, and walked up to it. After checking for watchers in all directions several times, Geryn slipped through the gate and briskly walked down the road, making sure to put as much distance as possible between him and the illegally passed border.  
After several minutes of walking, Geryn began to hear something unusual. Groaning. Very pained, near agonised groaning. It was only faint, but Geryn could tell that he wasn't to far away and began jogging towards where he could hear the sound was coming from. He kept following it, and the closer he got the more signs of a skirmish he saw. Discarded weapons, splatters of blood, arrows stuck in the ground. He even saw several bodies, of both Imperial soldiers and of soldiers in a blue tunic that he didn't recognise. When he finally reached the source of the noise, he found a gruesome scene laid out in front of him. It was a large, bulky Nord, wearing that unfamiliar blue tunic and lying in a pool of his own blood. He was in the foetal position, with one hand rapped over his head and the other one covered in fresh blood, clutching his stomach. He was extremely pale, and Geryn swore before crouching next to him and preparing a basic healing spell.  
Geryn put a hand on the man's shoulder, and leaned in close. "You look like you need some help."  
The man slightly turned his head towards Geryn, his long red hair and thick beard obscuring his face somewhat. "Please," The man said faintly, his thick Nordic accent making him sound a little less helpless. "Help..."  
"Don't worry," Reassured Geryn "I'm a healer. I'm here to help."  
"A... healer?" The man sounded relieved. "Thank Ysmir..."  
"Yes, a healer. I can help you, but only if you move that arm." He prayed that the man would cooperate, rather than display the stubbornness typical to the Nords of Skyrim.  
The man spoke weakly. "A... Alright. Please... hurry... hurts..." He moved his arm away, much to Geryn's relief. However, relief turned to horror when he saw the wound. As the man moved his arm away, intestines and what looked like an endless stream of blood followed it away from the man's stomach.  
Geryn tried to hide his horror so as not to scare the man. "Well... right, let's get started then..." He put his hand to the wound and began casting the healing spell, obscuring it in a sea of golden light. The sound of the organs regenerating and returning to the Nord's body was sickening, and the man screamed at the pain it caused. Once the spell was over, Geryn moved his hand away and was awarded with nothing but a healthy, if a bit pale, stomach and a torn tunic.  
The Nord sighed with relief. "Thank you, stranger," He shakily got to his feet. "I'm certain I wouldn't have made it for much longer had you not come along. I'm forever in your debt!"  
Geryn grinned. "Well don't worry, you owe me nothing." Suddenly he grew very serious and looked at the Nord with concern on his face. "Who did this?" He enquired. "Imperial soldiers?"  
The man nodded grimly. "Aye, an imperial soldier sliced me right across the belly." He sounded regretful, and sighed. "It was my own fault, I foolishly joined up with the stormcloaks, believing their cause true and just, but..."  
"Not anymore?"  
"No. I was assigned to Ulfric's guard, and the man's an arrogant fool if I ever saw one. I used to look up to him, but since meeting him.."  
"Forgive my ignorance, but I'm not from Skyrim. Who's Ulfric?"  
"Gods, man! Who's Ulfric? Why, he's the man killed High-King Torygg and started this Gods-forsaken war! How long have you been in Skyrim?"  
"A few minutes." Replied Geryn. He decided to inquire further. "So these Stormcloaks, they're some sort of rebellion?"  
"You could say that. I used to follow them, to agree with their hatred for the Empire but now... I'm not so sure."  
"Right." Geryn decided that he'd heard enough. "I'm Geryn, by the way." He held out his hand.  
"Joric." The man shook Geryn's out-stretched hand. "Shall we leave this place? I'm getting tired of staying in one place."  
"Good idea." Geryn turned and walked north up the road with Joric, who had found a discarded battle axe and was carrying it in one hand. "We should head for Falkreath." Joric suggested. "It's a small town, not far from here. It's under Imperial rule but I doubt I'll be recognised. Not that I ever want to return to the Stormcloaks. They can go to Oblivion for all I care."  
"Right." Geryn looked ahead and saw that they were on top of a hill, one that looked out across an epic expanse of pine trees with a few gaps which sprouted huge snow-capped mountains. "So which way is that?"  
"North west of here, I think." Joric sped up slightly. "Come on. We'll need to pick up the pace if we want to reach civilisation before dark." Geryn nodded, and they headed along the road and towards the Pine Forest.


	2. Chapter 2

Geryn and Joric were about to enter the Pine Forest when suddenly Joric stopped, and began sniffing the air. Geryn was confused. "What's wrong?" He asked, after a few seconds of watching his Nordic companion sniff the air like a blood hound.  
Joric looked back at Geryn. "I think I can smell smoke..."  
Then Geryn noticed it as well. He too began sniffing the air, and looked around for the source of the smell. He located it when he saw a huge plume of smoke rising from the mountains to the east of them, and pointed up at it simply saying "There." Joric looked as well, and when Geryn looked back at him he saw that his eyes suddenly widened. "What's wrong?"  
"I... I saw something. Not sure what it was." He sounded like he had seen a ghost.  
"Where? What did it look like?"  
"It flew out of the smoke and then back in again. I couldn't get a good look at it, but it was huge."  
"How big?" Geryn was now concerned as to what this creature was.  
"Ever seen a mammoth?"  
"So what, about the size of a house?"  
"Bigger than that, the size of an inn!"  
"Gods!" Geryn turned back towards the forest. "Come on, we need to keep moving."  
"Right." Joric still seemed slightly shaken.  
Geryn decided to try and reassure him. "Come on, Joric. That thing won't get near to us if we get into the forest."  
"Yeah, right... let's go then." The Nord began walking towards the forest, followed by Geryn.  
It wasn't too long before the pair were deep in the Pine Forest, and the sun had began to set. Joric stopped and began scratching his head at a cross roads. "Ah... I'm not entirely sure which way to go, now. It's been a while since I visited Falkreath... Ah, I think it's left."  
"Left? You're sure?" Geryn was relying on Joric, and prayed he had put his trust in the right hands.  
"Ah... No. But it's worth a try!" He sounded optimistic.  
Geryn sighed. "Right. Well I may as well trust your guess work, at least you live in Skyrim. I've never set foot outside of Cyrodiil, so this is all new to me."  
It wasn't until a few hours later that they saw signs of civilisation. It was a small cottage, nestled away just off the road near a little pond and surrounded by trees. There was a welcoming warm glow coming from the windows and thin grey smoke was rising from the chimney. It had long since gone dark, and through the trees Geryn could see the two huge moons, Masser and Secunda, that provided them with the light they had been using to stick to the road. Geryn turned to Joric. "Shall we knock?"  
"I don't know, what if it's bandits, or worse?." Joric sounded nervous.  
"Oh lighten up, will you? I bet it'll just be a woodsman. We'll be fine." Geryn gave Joric a reassuring pat on the back before walking over to the cottage and knocking. He waited a few seconds, and was greeted by a tired looking Nord with no head hair and a small, circular beard. He was apparently quite unimpressed with the interruption to his sleep.  
He looked Geryn up and down and grumbled: "Yes? What do you want?"  
Geryn gave him his friendliest smile. "Well, we'd quite like shelter for the night. If that's fine with you, of course."  
The Nord looked back into his house, then back at Geryn again. "Really? And why, may I ask, should I trust you two?" His gaze darted between his two guests. "A weedy Breton mage and a shifty looking warrior? Not a chance."  
_Great, _Thought Geryn. _Looks like this guy's got that distrust that most Nords possess. _"We can pay you." Geryn quickly played his last card.  
"I know," The Nord smiled wickedly. "And you will." At that moment, the man stepped aside and several armed men and women walked out of the cottage, all of which looked very rough, obviously bandits.  
Geryn prepared a paralysis spell behind his back. "Ah! Are these kind people here to show us in?"  
One of the bandits, a tall Nordic woman in thick steel armour and armed with a mace and shield, laughed slightly and said "Us? Looks like it's just you, your friend was clever enough to flee."  
"What?" Geryn looked behind himself and that Joric was already at least twenty metres down the road. "Joric!" He turned around just in time to the pommel of a mace heading straight towards his face. Everything went black.

Geryn's eyes slowly opened, and were greeted with the lovely sight of the inside of a rather damp, dark prison cell. He slowly sat up, and threw his hand up to his temple, which was pounding. He groaned slightly as he returned to his senses, and he got a good look around at his surroundings. His cell was made out of a rather rough hole in the wall of what looked like an ancient Nordic tomb, and was illuminated by the torches in the corridor outside. He noticed that he still had his mage's robes and his cowl on, which meant that at least he hadn't been stripped of everything he had. He felt for his satchel, where he kept his coin purse, and sighed when he unsurprisingly found it gone. He got to his feet and walked over to the iron bars of the cell door, and tried to pull it open, hoping against hope that the bandits had been stupid enough to leave his cell unlocked. As he suspected, he had no such luck, and the cell door didn't budge. His head pounded again, and he decided that he'd best rest while he could. He sat down again, and tried to get some rest.  
As his eyes were just beginning to close, they darted back open again when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. He shuffled over to the door again and waited, until a tall bandit with studded leather armour and a sword began to slowly pace past. Jus as he was about to pass Geryn, he called him over. "Oi!" The bandit turned around.  
"What do you want, prisoner?" He sounded impatient and extremely irritable.  
"What're you holding me for?" Geryn would have expected them to just kill him and loot his corpse. "Ransom? Slave driving?"  
"None of your business. Now shut up before I come over there and cut off your ears."  
Geryn decided he'd try and irritate the man in a desperate bid for an opportunity for escape. "Alright," He said, in as sarcastic a voice as possible. "But I do believe it is my business, being the prisoner and all."  
The bandit sounded extremely frustrated. "Well," He said through gritted teeth. "_I do believe_ that you should hold your tongue before I cut it off!"  
"Oh!" Geryn chuckled. "Somebody's getting a little bit violent."  
"Quiet!" The bandit was breathing heavily, obviously extremely agitated at this point.  
"I don't think I will be quiet." Geryn was very proud of his attempt to annoy the bandit.  
"I've had enough of this!" The bandit stormed off, continuing his patrol up and down the corridor. Geryn grinned. He was enjoying this.


	3. Chapter 3

"_And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no_ _moooore!" _Sung Geryn. "_When his ugly red head rolled around on the floor!" _He finished his fourth run of _Ragnar The Red _with a broad grin on his face, much to the annoyance of a rather red-faced and shaky bandit. Geryn's voice was hurting after hours of singing and shouting, but he could tell that the bandit had nearly snapped. He walked past again, and Geryn shouted to him: "How about another one? Sing along if you know the words!"  
The bandit stopped and looked back at Geryn. "Don't. You. Dare."  
Geryn grinned. _"Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red who came riding to Whiterun from old Rorickstead!"  
_"Shut up!"  
_"And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade as he told of bold battles and gold he had made!"  
_"Shut. Up."  
_"But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red, when he met the shield maiden Matilda who said!"  
_"Shut it!"  
_"Oh, you talk and you lie and you drink all our mead, now I think it's high time that you lie down and bleed!"  
_The bandit made a low, rumbling growling noise.  
_"And so then came clashing and slashing of steel as the brave lass Matilda charged in full of zeal!"  
_"You'd better shut your mouth, or I'm gonna-"  
_"And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no moooore!"  
_"That's it!" The bandit stormed over to Geryn's cell.  
_"When his ugly red head rolled around on the floor!" _Geryn bowed. "Thank you, thank you!"  
The bandit was practically about to explode. He had developed a slight twitch, and a vain in his forehead bulged. "I've had enough!" He exclaimed. He pulled out a key and swiftly but shakily unlocked Geryn's cell. He stormed inside and grabbed the Breton by the arm and raised a fist. "Go on!" He shouted. "Sing!"  
Geryn grinned. "No need." There was a flash of green light, and the bandit suddenly went rigid and dropped to the stone, like a statue. Geryn knelt down and picked up the key, before walking out into the corridor and locking the cell behind him. "Don't worry." He said to the paralysed bandit. "It'll wear off in a couple of hours. In the meantime, sit tight!" As he turned and left the cell behind him, he heard a constrained scream of rage. He smiled as he headed down the corridor.  
He began to hear voices as he approached a door at the end of the corridor. He leaned against the wall next to the door and listened in. "...agreed?" he heard a woman's voice say.  
"Right." This time it was a man. "So after we kill Rigel, then what? We can't exactly lead this place on our own."  
"Yeah." The woman said. "I've been thinking that. Well, I say first of all we get out of here, taking Rigel's armour with us. It could probably fetch us a hefty sum in Falkreath, and I don't know about you but I'm not risking getting into her treasure room, even after she's dead. Have you seen the traps?" From this, Geryn gathered that Rigel was the leader of these bandits, possibly the same heavily armoured woman that knocked him out in the first place.  
"I know what you mean... The last guy that tried anything was decimated!" He heard the man shudder. "So much blood..."  
"Yeah." The woman spoke quietly. "Wait... the singing's stopped."  
"What?"  
"That prisoner who was singing... Do you think Roggi got fed up and killed him?" Geryn swore under his breath. They were getting suspicious.  
"Gods, I hope not. We'd better check." Geryn heard footsteps coming towards the door. The door opened, and the two bandits emerged, hurriedly walking towards Geryn's former cell. Geryn relaxed slightly, relieved that he hadn't been noticed. He ran into the next room, which was rather empty, save for a table and two chairs. On the table was his satchel, along with a few coin purses obviously taken from other captives. Geryn grabbed his own satchel, and poured the contents of the other purses into it, leaving quite a weight hanging by his side once he slung it over his shoulder again. He saw a door at the other end of the room, and quickly jogged over to it. He opened it a crack, peering through to see an Orc pacing a short corridor, war axe at his hip and shield slung over his back. He was humming slightly to himself. As he reached the door Geryn was behind, he noticed that it was slightly open.  
"Hey, who's behind there? That you Diri?" He sounded slightly annoyed, as if this was a regular thing. When Geryn gave no response, he spoke again. "Don't mess me around, Diri. You know it makes me uncomfortable when you watch me like this." Still no response. The Orc sighed. "Alright, you're annoying me now." He began walking towards the door. Geryn threw it open, and the Orc stopped. "What? You're no Diri! What di-" He was cut off as a green flash of light rendered him completely rigid, and he hit the floor with a thump.  
Geryn ran past him, running through the archway at the end of the corridor and into a large room filled with wooden catwalks and platforms, all being patrolled by armed bandits. _This may be a little bit difficult, _Geryn thought to himself. He slowly entered the room, sticking close to the wall. He changed the spell in his hand from the green paralysis spell to an orange telekinesis spell. He used it to pick up a pebble near his feet and lob it at a bandit on the far side of the room, some 30 metres away.  
He heard him shout. "Ow! Not funny, Skald!"  
"What?" asked a confused Skald.  
"Oh, playing dumb, eh?"  
"I don't know what you're talking about!"  
"Just stop it!" The stroppy bandit turned around, leaving his friend confused. Geryn threw another rock at him. "Okay, that time it was definitely you!"  
"What was me? What are you talking about?"  
"You keep throwing something at me!"  
"What? I haven't laid a finger on you!"  
"Ha! Your mother wasn't saying _that _last night!" Geryn chuckled. This was getting immature.  
"Oh, funny. Does that make you feel big?"  
"She did actually say that!" Geryn had to contain his laughter.  
"You're ridiculous!" The commotion was beginning to draw the attention of all the other bandits, and they all gathered around, hoping to see a fight.  
"Me? You were throwing stones at me!"  
"I wasn't!"  
"You were!" The bandit threw a stone at his friend.  
"Hey!"  
"I didn't do anything."  
"Oh, I'll do something!" The bandits charged at each other and began flailing their limbs madly. All the other bandits began to cheer and shout, and with this distraction Geryn ran straight past them all and through the door at the other end of the room, which led into a rough stone tunnel which headed diagonally upwards. At the top, Geryn found a solid wooden wall. He looked for a handle, but found nothing. As he was about to give up, he noticed a stone button on the wall next to him, and pushed it. The wall in front of him swung open, and revealed the basement of what looked like a small house. Geryn stepped through the doorway, and headed up the wooden stairs.  
At the top of the stairs, Geryn ran into an old friend. The man who had answered the door. "What?" The man exclaimed. "But how did-" He didn't get to say anything else, as Geryn had promptly punched him in the face, rendering him limp and unconscious. Nodding with satisfaction, he headed out of the front door, and was greeted by the red light of sunrise.


	4. Chapter 4

Geryn squinted slightly as he emerged into the sunrise, adjusting to the sudden change in light. He looked around and saw the road him and Joric had originally been following, and began heading down that road again, hoping that it would in fact take him to Falkreath. As he walked, he wondered if he would run into Joric again, and what had happened to the man. Also, he wondered what he would say to him if he did see him. For the man had run away and abandoned Geryn, but if he hadn't then would he have been able to sneak away with a huge, bulky Nord to look after? He wondered.  
Geryn suddenly became aware of the smell of smoke. Not black smoke, like before, but wood smoke, the kind that comes out of the chimneys of houses. It was only another few minutes before he finally saw Falkreath, a sight which made him very happy indeed. There was no real gate to speak of, just and archway in the walls around the town. As he approached, the guard halted him. He quickly asked: "Did you see a dog out on the road?"  
_What a strange question, _Geryn thought to himself. "No... why do you ask?"  
"The blacksmith's offering a reward for a dog he'd seen out on the road. I was hoping you'd seen it."  
"Sorry, I've not seen anything."  
"Ah, well... You can head on in. Keep your nose clean while you're here." The guard stepped aside to let Geryn into the town.  
Geryn walked past him and into Falkreath. It was a small towm, with a fair amount of houses, an inn, a few shops, a lumber mill and a very large graveyard. The inn, _The Dead Man's Drink,_ was right by the entrance to town, so Geryn decided he would go inside. It was still early morning and he hadn't eaten since before he got to Skyrim, and was therefore ravenous. As he stepped inside, he was greeted by a welcoming warm glow that was emitted by the large fire pit in the middle of the room. Around the edges were all the tables and chairs, and at the other end was the bar.  
Geryn approached the bar, which was tended by a middle aged looking Imperial woman, with long brown hair and a welcoming face. "Welcome to Dead Man's Drink." She said. "Can I get you something?"  
"Breakfast," He paused, losing focus as a barmaid in revealing clothing walked by. "Uh... Yeah, breakfast."  
"Alright, take a seat and I'll send someone over."  
Geryn walked over to one of the tables at the edges of the room and sat at the bench, glad to finally be able to sit down somewhere that isn't a cell. He turned around and leaned his back against the table, so that he could see the rest of the inn. He saw a man with a lute get up from his chair and walk into the middle of the room, by the fire pit. He looked around at the inn's patrons, and said: "This is a local favourite and one of the first songs I ever learned... Ragnar the Red."  
As the bard began playing, Geryn couldn't help but grin. _I'm definitely tipping him, _he thought.  
Just then a barmaid walked over bearing a bowl of hot stew.  
"You order breakfast?"  
Geryn was captivated by the music, and suddenly snapped back to reality. "Oh, sorry! Yes, just leave it on the table."  
"That'll be 5 Septims." She held out her hand expectantly, and Geryn dropped the money into her hand.  
As Geryn ate, he thought about the events that had transpired the previous day. He remembered how her had saved Joric's life, and how Joric had then thrown that back in face and run away. He sighed. He could tell Joric was a good man, but he had also noticed that he was a huge coward, particularly for a Nord. He then remembered the huge plume of smoke he had seen in the distance, and wondered what it had been. Once he had finished his meal, he got up and walked over to the bar.  
The woman at the bar looked up at him. "Can I get you something?"  
"Yesterday I saw a lot of smoke coming from the mountains to the east. Has there been any news on something that could cause that?"  
"We've had no word on what that was, but a man was here last night asking similar questions."  
Geryn's leaned in closer. "What man?"  
"Big fella. Nord. Ginger hair, thick beard. A little jumpy, actually."  
Geryn's eyes widened. "Is he still in town?"  
"I don't think I should answer that. I'd prefer to keep his privacy."  
Geryn thought for a second. "I know the man, we were separated when I was captured by bandits, but I escaped. I need to find him."  
"How sad. Unfortunately, I don't think I should believe you."  
Geryn thought again. "Did he describe something... else, in the smoke? Something as big as, say, an inn?"  
The woman looked surprised. "Why yes, actually!"  
"Therefore I obviously know him." Geryn leaned away again with a satisfied grin.  
The woman sighed. "Yes, he's still in town. He's actually asleep in one of our bedrooms at the moment, having a bit of a lie in."  
Geryn walked away, sat back at the table he was at before and waited. It wasn't too long before Geryn saw Joric emerge from his room, stretching and yawning and rubbing his eyes. He tipped the innkeeper, then made for the door, not even noticing the hooded figure watching him pass by. Just as he was about to leave, a voice called out to him. "Joric, wait!" Geryn stood.  
Joric's eyes widened in fear and he shouted "Gods, no!" before bursting outside and running for his life. Geryn leapt over his bench and burst outside after him.  
"Joric!" he called. He looked around and saw the Nord fleeing down the road outside the walls, and sprinted after him. "Stop!" He called between pants. Joric just kept on running, not looking back and desperately trying to outrun Geryn. "What are you doing?" Joric still did not offer any response. "Dammit, man. Why are you running?" Geryn was getting slightly closer now, he had the advantage that he wasn't lugging around think leather armour. Still, he was tiring quicker than the Nord was, he wasn't exactly in top condition, especially considering Joric used to be a soldier. He stopped, and used a telekinesis spell to throw a thin, fallen branch in Joric's path, hoping to trip him up. Joric leapt right over the branch without losing momentum, and Geryn cursed and took off after him again. Once he was within spell casting range, he shouted "I didn't want to do this!" And blasted his friend with a paralysis spell. Joric froze, gliding through the air for a second on then hitting the ground, rigid and helpless.  
Geryn finally got close, taking a few seconds to catch his breath before speaking. "Why did you run?" He asked.  
"Mmmph! Hmmm!"  
"Ah, right, sorry." Geryn undid the spell's effects, leaving Joric to move freely again.  
"Please, please forgive me!" Joric pleaded, desperately.  
"What?" Geryn gave Joric room to stand. "Of course I've forgiven you."  
"Then why did you come after me? Why do you haunt me?"  
"Haunt you?" Suddenly, Geryn realised why Joric was so startled. "Oh, you think I'm some kind of ghost?" He grinned. "Well don't worry, I'm very much alive."  
"You're... You're sure?"  
"Positive."  
Joric sighed with relief. "Oh, thank Talos you weren't killed! How did you escape?"  
"It's... a long story." Geryn gestured back down the road again. "Shall we head back to town?"  
"Yeah, okay." Joric and Geryn turned back towards Falkreath, each one glad they'd found the other alive.


	5. Chapter 5

Geryn and Joric were sat down at the table in _The Dead Man's Drink_, each with a mug of ale in front of them. Geryn had just shared his story about escaping the bandit hideout, and Joric looked extremely impressed. "So you got out all by yourself?" He gave a whistle of admiration.  
"Well, I wouldn't say _completely _by myself. I couldn't have done it if it weren't for that bandit's apparent hatred of bardic tunes." He grinned at the memory. "Ah, his reaction was priceless..."  
"Well," Joric still looked incredibly impressed. "I think it was incredible of you! Very clever, very brave."  
"Oh, stop!" Geryn grinned. "So where did you get to, then?"  
Joric shifted uncomfortably. "Well, after I... uh... got away, I ran straight here. I ordered a mug of ale and went straight to bed."  
Geryn picked up his own mug of ale, reminded of its presence, and drank his first ever gulp of Nordic brew. Before it reached the back of his throat it landed straight back in his mug. Geryn decided against another sip. "So," He said, staring back at the foul liquid with distaste. "I didn't miss much, then?"  
"No. I slept until you, uhm, found me here." Joric took a large gulp of his ale, apparently loving it. "So," He said, when he had slammed down his mug and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "What are you actually doing in Skyrim, then?"  
"Ah. Yes. I'm here for the college."  
"The college?"  
"Of Winterhold."  
"Oh, _that _place. Yeah, that won't make you Skyrim's most popular man."  
"Really?" This was new to Geryn. "Why not?"  
"Well, most Nords fear or distrust mages in general, especially the ones from Winterhold, and especially since the great collapse."  
"Ah, I suppose I should have guessed that. The great collapse... terrible disaster, should never have happened. I presume people think it was the college's fault?"  
"You don't?"  
"I'm unsure. Even if it was, the college is filled with different mages altogether now, so the people shouldn't distrust them, surely?"  
"Yes, well, Nords aren't exactly very trusting anyway. Half a city falling into the sea doesn't just happen, and it's noy easily forgotten. Particularly for Nords."  
Geryn looked up at Joric. "You know where it is?"  
"What?"  
"The College of Winterhold."  
"Of course."  
"Want to take me there?"  
Joric pondered for a moment. "Well... I don't know. Do you need me?"  
"Well I need someone," Geryn grinned at Joric. "And you're the only man I've met so far who knows where he's going and doesn't want me dead in a ditch."  
"Well..."  
Geryn placed 5 Septims on the table. "Well?"  
Joric grinned, taking the money. "I'll be happy to help!"  
"Good." Geryn got up, leaving his ale on the table. "I think I'm going to go and see what all the local shops have to offer. I haven't really looked around town yet, and I don't waste to waste an opportunity to buy supplies. Besides," He shook his satchel, which tinkled with money that he'd taken from the bandits. "It's not like I can't afford to do a bit of shopping, is it?" He swiftly turned on his heal, his brown tunic swishing behind him slightly and his satchel jingling.

Hours later, Geryn was returning to the inn with his coin purse a little lighter and a few new items tucked under his arm. He entered, and walked straight into Joric's room. Joric was sat on a small wooden armchair, apparently having a quick snooze, and woke up when Geryn walked in. "What's all this?" He asked, referring to Geryn's bundle of newly bought supplies.  
"I've been shopping." Geryn laid all of his new possessions out on the bed. He had bought a stash of new alchemical supplies, a few books that he thought looked interesting and a new pair of comfortable walking boots, to name some of things he'd laid out. But what particularly caught Joric's attention was the largest item, a robe. The robe was a dark green colour, with long tails that covered the sides of his legs and lined around the edges with an off-white material. It was clearly designed to be left open, as it included no belt or buttons of any description. Geryn saw Joric looking at it. "I decided it was time I bought some proper mage robes." He explained. "They're enchanted to harness the magicka in the air around me and absorb itinto my body quicker, so that I can cast spells quicker." Joric looked confused, so he simplified it for him. "Basically, it makes me magically catch my breath quicker. A bit like having a drink, only magical."  
"Right." Joric looked at it for a while. "Have you tried it on?"  
"Good idea." Geryn put it on over his clothes, and grinned when it fit him perfectly. "Oh I like this." He said, admiring it. "Very nice." He spun, making the tails swish about behind him. "Very nice indeed."  
"It suits you well." Agreed Joric. "Did you get anything else interesting?"  
"Oh yes, lots of stuff." He looked at the assorted items. "Well, nothing you'd be interested in. All alchemical supplies and literature. I imagine you're not excited by that sort of thing."  
Joric suddenly looked confused. "But how are you going to carry all of that?"  
Geryn smiled proudly. "Ah! Funny you should ask, I just solved that little niggle..." He unslung his satchel from his shoulder and laid it down on the bed. He then put every one of the items inside it with ease, which should have been completely impossible.  
"How did you do that?"  
Geryn proudly stated. "I used basic alteration magic to remould the inside of the satchel while using restoration to contain the outside and keep id intact. In the end, I was left with a satchel with an inside that's much bigger than the outside. It's all very magic-y wagic-y and it's a lot more complex than everything that I just said."  
"Right." Joric said again, clearly not understanding. Geryn slung the satchel over his shoulder, and turned towards the exit, his new robe moving behind him in a way that made him feel very impressive indeed.


	6. Chapter 6

Geryn woke the next morning to the sound of torrential rain pounding against the thatched roof of the inn. He had rented the room opposite Joric's the previous night, and this morning they planned to leave Falkreath and set off on their journey to Winterhold. Geryn sat up and slid off the bed, onto his feet. He picked up his cowl and, along with his new robe and boots, and put them all on, leaving the hood of his cowl down until he got outside. He had slept in his tunic and trousers, so they were already on. Once he was dressed, he slung his satchel over his shoulder and walked out of his room. He was met by Joric, wearing his armour and with his battle axe strapped to his back. The Nord was stood by the fire, and was warming his hands on it. "Geryn." He said as Geryn approached him.  
"You ready to leave?"  
"Yeah, the rain's not going to wear off, so we may as well."  
Geryn looked up at the roof, which was leaking ever so slightly. "Yeah," He agreed. "Shall we eat first?"  
"Oh, yeah." Joric and Geryn both approached the bar and ordered breakfast.  
Once they had eaten, the two adventurers could put it off no longer and walked out of the inn. Geryn put his hood up to protect himself from the torrents of rain, which didn't help much considering they were both already practically soaked through. "Right!" Exclaimed Geryn over the sound of the rain. "Lead on, Joric!"  
"R-r-right!" Joric was shivering. "This way!" He began walking towards the northern end of town, and left via the northbound road.  
The rain made their journey difficult, as it made visibility very low and gave them a hard time hearing each other. It also meant that the road was incredibly muddy and slippery, and they both fell over more than once on their way through the Pine Forest. After an hour or so the rain intensified, as thunder and lightning picked up, and wind began blasting though every gap in the trees it could find.  
Joric lead the way, his teeth chattering and his soaked beard making him look like a rather angry cat. His hair whipped all over the place, and hit him in the eyes several times. Geryn was not as bad, although he had to hold his hood in place to prevent it being blown down. His long robe billowed out behind him, and his face stung from the combination of wind and rain. Both of them had water sloshing about in their boots, and both of them were extremely irritable and miserable.  
After a few hours of near hurricane conditions in the forest, Joric stopped and let Geryn catch up to him. Geryn was confused by the sudden halt. "What is it?" He shouted, battling with the wind and rain to be heard.  
"I th-think I... saw somethng m-m-moving dead ahead!" Joric managed to say, nearly chocked by the rain and still chattering furiously. Geryn squinted to try and see if there was anything ahead, but couldn't see anything through the rain.  
He shouted over the storm. "I don't see anything!" Suddenly, there was a flash of lightning and in split second of illumination Geryn saw several figures up ahead. They looked unarmed, and Geryn thought he could see a very large shape at the front of the group. "I think they're friendly!" He shouted to Joric. "We should catch them up!" Joric never said anything, but rather nodded in agreement.  
They battled the wind, shielding their faces with their arms as the attempted to pick up their pace and catch the other people. As they moved, Geryn began to make out shapes in the misty rain. They were vague at first, but very quickly they began to take the shape of what looked like a Khajiit trading caravan. Geryn could make out five Khajiit, tails limp and miserable, all shivering and fur dripping wet. The large shape at the front of the group was a small cart being pulled along by a workhorse, which was plodding along slowly and shivering about as much as its masters. Geryn called out to the pitiful group. "Hello there!" They turned around and one of them ran ahead to stop the horse. A tall Khajiit in a thick black coat and with a long grey mane which rippled in the wind approached Geryn and Joric. The others all took cover by leaning against the cart.  
"What do you want?" He faintly heard the trader call out, his voice carried away by the wind but his Elswyrian accent still noticeable.  
Geryn and Joric began to move closer. "We would like to join you!" He called back. "Strength in numbers, right?"  
The Khajiit turned back towards his friends, gesturing for the two travellers to join him. The two newcomers joined the group, and the horse began walking again, followed by its seven tagalongs. Joric lagged behind at the back of the group while Geryn walked alongside the grey cat, who was obviously the leader. Both of their coats billowed out behind them, and the cat's ears were pinned right back. His fur was dripping wet. Geryn struggled against the booming and whistling wind and the constant splashing of the rain to make himself heard. "Name's Geryn!" He called. He was keeping it short now, the weather was making longer sentences impossible.  
"Ri'saad!" The Khajiit replied, his voice nearly lost to the weather.  
Geryn continued his vocal battle against the elements. "We should find shelter!" His voice hurt from shouting, and was becoming slightly croaky and hoarse. Ri'saad nodded his agreement, and he gestured for his companions to head off the road.  
It was a lot tougher to move about off the road, but at least there were a lot more trees, so the wind and rain were less prominent, although only a little. What they lost in physical impact, however, the elements made up for in noise, as the wind now whistled eerily around them at ten times the volume it had before and was constant, tireless. Eventually they came to a cave, and Geryn and Ri'saad lead the way inside, relief filling everyone when they found it to be safe and uninhabited. Everyone, including the horse and cart, got inside and they all collapsed onto the floor, out of both exhaustion and relief. Before any words could be exchange, Geryn found himself entering a deep sleep and the muddy floor, not caring where he lay and just glad that he was out of the nightmarish weather.


	7. Chapter 7

Geryn woke to the smell of exotic Elswyrian cooking and sleepily opened his eyes. He sat up and got a good look at his surroundings. He was in a large cave, which looked like some sort of smuggler's den. The walls were lined with barrels and crates, all stacked on top of each other in an unorganised fashion. In the centre of the room was a small fire with a kettle boiling above it. Smoke and steam clung to the ceiling and filled the air, making the atmosphere in the cave extremely stuffy and humid.  
Geryn looked down at his clothes, and saw that they were still dripping wet. His robe weighed about twice as much as it did before and had become very shiny, clinging to his arms and back. His trousers and tunic were in the same condition, and both looked completely black rather than grey and dark brown. His boots were filled with water, and sloshed about when he walked. His hood hung very heavily behind his head, and he could feel water dripping off it and down his back.  
He removed his cowl, satchel, robe and boots, then made his way over to Ri'saad, who was stood by the fire with another Khajiit. Everyone else was still asleep, exhausted from the terrible conditions. Stood by the fire with the cats, warming himself and drying his clothes. Ri'saad spoke. "So what is this one's destination?"  
"We're headed for the College of Winterhold. Well, I am, Joric's just showing me there."  
"Ah, so you are a mage, yes?" He looked at Geryn's robe, which he was holding out in front of the flames. "I should have guessed from your attire, but you can probably understand the weather prevented me from observing you properly."  
Geryn nodded "Yes, the same for you. Although I did guess that you were traders, is that true?"  
"Yes, how very observant of you. We recently moved to Skyrim with several other caravans because, believe it or not, war can be very good for business." He smiled deviously, showing off his catlike fangs.  
Geryn looked around at the many stacks of containers around him. "So what is this place? A warehouse? Or... something else?" He gave the Khajiit knowing tap on the nose.  
"Ah, how very deductive of you. Yes, this is where we keep certain, less legal items."  
Geryn looked down at the pot boiling over the fire. "Is that what you're cooking up in there?"  
"Oh, no. We are preparing a pot of Elswyr Fondue. Would you like to try some, when it is done?" He poured a bottle of ale into the mixture, then added a sprinkling of red crystals, which Geryn suspected was one of the 'less legal' products Ri'saad had mentioned.  
Geryn's face wrinkled slightly. "No thanks. I'm not too big on ale... amongst other things."  
Ri'saad smiled. "Ah, yes. I understand. Would your friend like some, when he wakes. Geryn looked over at Joric, who was fast asleep.  
He turned back to the cat. "No, I don't think so."  
"You're sure?"  
"Positive." Geryn looked over at the cave entrance. "Sounds like the storm's worn off."  
"Yes, it stopped around thirty minutes ago."  
"How long was I asleep?"  
"Well, about twenty minutes longer than I was. Probably an hour, maybe two."  
"Have you been outside?"  
"Not yet. But from the sound of things the wind is still quite strong." Geryn listened, and heard that the wind was still whistling and booming like it had been before. "There is a definite lack of thunder and rain, however."  
Geryn smiled. "So not the worst of weather."  
"Yes, the Khajiit were not built for rain. Wind is not so bad, although it usually blows bitter cold in this place." He threw a large handful of grated cheese into the mixture he was preparing, then began stirring. Geryn decided to leave him to it, and walked over to a crate he could sit on. He did so,then went about using magic to dry off his clothes.

He was in the process of using a telekinesis spell to extract the last of the water from his cowl, the last wet article of clothing, when Joric walked over to him. "Everyone's awake now," He told Geryn. "We're all sitting around the fire, why don't you join us?"  
Geryn looked up at him. He had put his robe, boots and satchel back on again, and placed his cowl back over his head. "Right." He got up and followed Joric back to the fire, where the five Khajiit were all sitting on benches that surrounded the fire, and talking and laughing together. Geryn and Joric sat on benches opposite each other, and joined in with the merriment. After a few minutes, Ri'saad got up and began handing out bowls of the Elswyr Fondue to eceryone, including Geryn and Joric. Geryn placed his bowl under his chair as soon as the Khajiit all began eating, and before Joric could start he kicked a stone at his foot to get his attention, then shook his head once the Nord looked over. There was a question on his face, and Geryn put one finger to his lips in reply.  
Geryn looked across at Ri'saad, who was eating his meal ravenously. In fact, the entire gathering of Khajiit were eating their meals like starved wolves, and clearly had nothing but the bowl in their hands on their minds. Geryn looked back at Joric and tilted his head towards the cave exit. He still looked confused, but it would have to wait. Geryn rose from his feet, and quietly made his way to the exit, followed by Joric, who lagged behind slightly as he grabbed his axe from where he had been sleeping.  
As soon as they got outside, the wind began beating against them again, and Geryn's robe whipped about madly. Joric, whose hair was blowing about in his face, turned to Geryn. "Why did we leave?"  
Geryn looked around slightly, making sure nobody was listening, before saying "That was a skooma den. That meal you were about to eat was full of moon sugar, a very strong, very addictive hallucinogenic. If you'd eaten it then you would have ran the risk of becoming reliant on it, which wouldn't be good for either of us. Fun, yes, but we'd never have gotten to Winterhold whilst high as the moon."  
"Right." Joric looked back at the cave. "Shall we get away, then? They'll probably realise we're gone pretty soon."  
Geryn looked up at the sky, and saw that it was around midday. "Alright, we'll find the road again and then you can lead the way."


	8. Chapter 8

Once they reached the road, they continued on the same route they were following before they met the Khajiit. As they walked, the wind battered them from all directions, creating such an amount of noise that it was difficult to hear each other talking, although not as hard as before. Everywhere Geryn looked he saw fallen trees and flooded areas, and at several points trees had landed on the road. The wind was worse than before, and for the most part they were walking right at it, making travel slow.  
Eventually, they came to a huge lake, which was surrounded by tall green pine trees on all sides and a small range of mountains at one end. It was a beautiful sight, although appreciating its beauty was made difficult by the fact that near the lake the wind picked up dramatically due to the fact that it was blocked a lot less by the trees. Geryn and Joric had a hard time staying on their feet after that, and were almost knocked over on several occasions. This wasn't helped by the fact that the road was incredibly muddy, and keeping their footing would have been a challenge even without the massive amount of wind.  
After walking alongside the lake for a while, they eventually reached a river that broke off from it, and began walking alongside that instead. Either side of them were small mountains, which did help in blocking out the wind somewhat, but not completely. After a few minutes of this they reached a small village, which they entered. It spanned a small plot of land and consisted of three small defensive walls at all the entrances, an inn, a shop, a blacksmith a few houses and a lumber mill, which sat on a small island in the middle of the river, which was fast-flowing at this point and slightly spilled over its banks due to the recent storm. Joric looked up at the blacksmith's, then back at Geryn. "I'm just going to buy a few things, you coming?"  
"Nah, I think I'll go to the inn and see if I can find out anything useful."  
"Like?"  
"I don't know, anything really." Geryn though back to the smoke they'd seen before they entered the forest. "Well, not exactly anything. Hopefully something in particular." He turned to leave, saying "Do what you need to do then meet me at the inn, I'll be waiting in there for you." As he left him, Joric turned around and began heading for the blacksmith's.  
Geryn entered the inn, which was called _The Sleeping Giant_, and, pulling his hood down, approached the bar, which was tended by a large, fat Nord with a filthy, red, hairy face and long, shaggy black hair. The man looked up at Geryn, giving him a gormless stare. Geryn leant on the bar and leaned in slightly. The Nord's expression went from gormless to annoyed. "What d'you want, Breton?" He did not sound impressed.  
Geryn leant back again, pushing off the bar with his hands. "Alright, no need to be rude, _Nord._ I only want a little bit of information."  
The barkeeper sounded suspicious. "What kind of information?"  
Geryn smiled. "Oh, you know, just general... knowledge."  
The man was annoyed. "Look, lad, I don't know what you're asking for. Besides, I thought you people were supposed to be smart. What would a pompous Breton not know that I-"  
Suddenly, a woman's voice cut him off from a room behind the bar. "Orgnar! Are you slandering the Bretons again?" a short, blonde Breton woman walked out from the room, whom Orgnar looked at and instantly went quiet.  
He found his voice, then said "Sorry, Delphine." He waved his hand in Geryn's direction, who gave a mocking, half salute half wave back. "It's just that this fella's just come in here looking for 'information'. What in Oblivion is that supposed to mean?"  
Delphine glanced over at Geryn. "What kind of information?"  
"All he'd say is 'general knowledge'! What is he looking for, a broken nose?"  
Delphine rolled her eyes. "I very much doubt that. Now, get back to work if you want to see the rest of your pay. I'll handle this." Delphine walked over to Geryn and lead him away, to the other end of the inn. "Now," she began. "I know when someone's looking for specific information, and I also know quite a bit. So just get straight to the point, no delays."  
Geryn looked over at Orgnar, who was grumbling angrily to himself whilst cleaning a mug. "The other day me and my friend saw a lot of smoke coming from the mountains by this town. Have you any idea what caused it?"  
Delphine looked surprised. "You haven't heard? Helgen, a small town up in the mountains, was obliterated by a huge, angry dragon." She paused, her eyes moving up to the ceiling. "Or so people say. Sounds like Hogwash to me."  
Geryn was shocked. "Gods, a dragon? But they've been dead thousands of years!"  
Delphine shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "Yes, well like I said it sounds like bull-"  
"Wait, so are there more dragons or just the one?"  
"I don't even think there's-"  
"Don't bother." Geryn looked her up and down. "I can tell you believe it, but clearly you don't want to admit it, for whatever reason."  
Delphine looked nervous. "Yes, well if you don't mind then could you stop this line of que-"  
"No, I can tell you're hiding something..." Geryn leant against the wall behind him, smug. Delphine began to look even more nervous. "Now, why would you be nervous about being associated with dragons?"  
"No reason."  
"Unless... someone's looking for you..." Geryn's eyes suddenly lit up, and he hopped on the spot slightly. "Aha! The Thalmor! The Thalmor are looking for you, because you're a-"  
"Shut-"  
"Blade!"  
"Up!"  
Geryn suddenly quietened down slightly. "Sorry, was that a little loud?"  
Delphine looked around at everyone in the inn. The atmosphere was loud and jovial, so she turned back to Geryn, speaking in an angry, hushed tone. "Luckily for you nobody heard that." She raised her voice again. "Now, would you like a mug of ale?"  
"Gods, no. Definitely not. I'll just have a plate of food, if that's fine by you."  
"Alright, coming right up." Delphine walked over to Orgnar, while Geryn went and found an empty table and waited for Joric.


	9. Chapter 9

Joric sat down across from Geryn, who looked up from his bowl of vegetable soup and noticed that he was wearing a shiny new helmet with large, impractical horns sticking out at the sides and carrying a large, very sharp looking double edged battle axe. "So," Began Joric. "What do you think of my new gear?"  
Geryn nodded, expressing approval even though he was clueless when it came to weapons. "Nice. Not too sharp." He grinned. "The gear's good though."  
Joric smiled back, ironically not actually getting the joke. "Got them for a bargain. He said that he hadn't been able to sell combat gear for a while, so was happy to get rid of them."  
"Very good." Geryn leaned in and spoke in hushed tones. "I've gone and got myself some information."  
"Oh?"  
Geryn motioned his head in the direction of Delphine, who was currently talking to Orgnar over at the bar. "See her over there?" Geryn mouthed the word "Blade."  
"Gods, really?" Joric was very loud. "A Blade? Ow!"  
Geryn had kicked him in the shin under the table. He spoke nice and loudly. "Yes, your _axe _has got a very sharp blade!"  
Joric looked confused. "But that's not what I-" He never got to finish, as Geryn's hand covered his mouth.  
Geryn lowered his voice again. "Quiet, if people find out then she'll have the Thalmor on her back. They're still after any Blade they can find, you know. Besides," He spoke at normal volume again. "I've found out some much more valuable information. You remember that smoke we saw the other day?"  
"Yes?"  
"Well turns out it was a dragon attack."  
Joric suddenly looked petrified. "That smoke wasn't too far from here! We've got to leave!" He looked up at the ceiling, as if expecting a dragon to come crashing through at any minute. "Who knows when it'll strike next? We aren't safe here!" He got up to leave.  
"Relax!" Geryn pushed him back down with a hand on his shoulder (And the help of a little bit of magic. Joric was strong, Geryn wasn't) "Dragons aren't wild beasts, they're intelligent creatures. Cleverer than all the humans put together. If they're back, and there's a lot of them, then nowhere is safe." He patted Joric on the shoulder. "But don't let that get you down! There's still adventures to be had, ale to be drunk! Not that I'm best pleased about that last part..." He shuddered. "Anyway, I'm not stopping my journey just because a giant, fire-breathing, flying lizard wrecked a town! Come on, we should keep moving. We've got a couple of hours of daylight left and I intend to spend them wisely!"  
"Can't I grab something to eat first?" Joric looked at Geryn's meal, which he had been eating between sentences. "I'm starving."  
Geryn sighed. "Alright, but eat quickly. We need to get gone pretty sharpish."  
After Joric had eaten, and Delphine had very quickly and happily shown them out, they were back on the road. They walked out of the small village and it wasn't long before they were out of the forest as well. As they exited the forest, they came out at the top of a hill and were greeted with a view of a relatively big city. Geryn looked at it from his vantage point on the hill. "Which city's that?"  
"Whiterun." Joric walked over and stood next to Geryn. "You've probably heard of it. It's right in the centre of Skyrim."  
Geryn nodded. "Yes, I've heard of it." He began walking down the road that lead down the hill. "It's often referred to as Skyrim's Imperial City. I can't see why, it's very small and looks practically in ruin."  
"Well the Imperial City's not in great shape, from what I've heard."  
"Whiterun wasn't besieged by elves in the past 50 or so years. What happened to it, exactly?"  
"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. I think it's just old, that's all."  
"Not as old as the Imperial City. That was built in the Mythic era, by the Aylieds, and they don't even exist anymore!"  
"Huh." Joric thought for a moment, trying and failing to follow what Geryn had just said. Then, he remembered what his father had told him as a child. "You know, I'm not sure what this means but my pa used to tell me that the empire was using their White Gold Tower to compensate."  
Geryn laughed. "I'll have to use that at some point. Brilliant..."  
"Alright then." Joric didn't see what was so funny, so he just pretended he did and smiled back at Geryn.  
As they approached Whiterun, they passed a building that sat by the side of the road with a sign outside that said _Honningbrew Meadery _on it, which Joric very excitedly insisted on them visiting. Geryn sighed, looking at the position of the sun and seeing that they still had an hour or son of daylight left. He rolled his eyes. "Alright, we'll go in."  
Joric was bursting with childlike glee. "Yes! I'm going to drink so much mead!" He ran up to the front door and ran inside. Geryn followed him, feeling like he was Joric's supervisor.  
Once inside, Geryn saw a small room with a bar and lots of large barrels stacked on top of each other. Behind the bar was a bald Nord, with a thin grey moustache and a dirty white apron. He looked at Joric with a mixture of annoyance and boredom. Joric was telling him a long list of meads he wanted to try, and the man just stood there, not caring. Geryn walked over. "Why don't you just have a bottle of ordinary mead, hm?" He put a hand on Joric's shoulder. "Only, we're in a bit of a hurry and would like to reach Whiterun before sundown, if possible."  
Joric sounded disappointed. "Alright, I'll take seven bottles of plain mead then."  
The barkeeper placed seven orange bottles on the counter. "That'll be 50 Septims."  
Joric smiled broadly, slamming a hefty coin purse on the table with a loud clink. "Thank you!" He grabbed the bottles, stuffing them into his bag.  
Geryn gestured towards the door. "We done, then?"  
"Yeah, alright." As they walked out of the door, Joric waved to the man enthusiastically. "Thank you!" Geryn shook his head in bewilderment as they got back on the road, heading for the city of Whiterun.


	10. Chapter 10

When Geryn and a very giddy Joric arrived at Whiterun's city gate, they found it closed. Geryn was annoyed, and approached the man standing guard. "Why can't we go in?"  
The guard's voice was resonated inside his helmet. "Jarl's orders. We're keeping the city closed, what with the dragons about and all. Now clear off, the both of you."  
"But how will closing the gate stop a dragon?" Geryn saw no logic in this, and was annoyed at how stupid Nords could be sometimes, even the ones in power.  
"Well why don't you take it up with Jarl Balgruuf?" The guard laughed. "Oh, yeah. You can't. Now clear off, Breton, and take your unshaven friend with you!"  
Geryn stood his ground. "Come on, let us in. We've been traveling these past couple of days. We've come a long way, and even walked through that storm the other day."  
The guard shrugged his shoulders. "It's none of my business. Now leave, before I arrest you."  
Geryn took a step towards the guard. "Come on, surely you can make use of us?"  
"How?"  
"I'm a mage and Joric back there's a capable warrior. We can help to defend the city, even against a dragon."  
"Ha! We don't need the likes of mages to defend us. Go back to your damn college, Breton." He said 'Breton' as if it was an insult.  
"Well, we're actually on our way there. For once, someone was prejudice _and _right! Do you want a medal?"  
"Quiet, now!"  
"Or?"  
The guard drew his sword. "Or I lock you in the dungeon. That's the only way you're ever getting in here."  
"Are you threatening me?" Geryn charged a spell in his right hand, making it glow intimidatingly.  
"I have every right to threaten you, now clear off back to High Rock!"  
"Actually I've never lived there."  
"Go!"  
Joric interjected. "Geryn, this isn't getting us anywhere but the prisons. Just leave it."  
The guard laughed, smugly pointing his sword at the two. "Your ugly friend is right, mage. You're getting yourself nowhere."  
Geryn laughed back at the guard. "Ha! There's two of us and one of you. We could kill you right now."  
The guard looked Geryn up and down. "You're not a killer. You don't have the strength. And your friend's way to jumpy to be capable of killing a mudcrab, let alone a human."  
Joric shuddered at the mention of mudcrabs. "Bleugh! Horrible creatures!"  
The guard sheathed his sword. "I've got nothing to fear from you two, that much is clear. Now, leave this place, stop wasting my time and go and prance around and cast spells."  
"Fine, we'll go. But when a dragon burns this place to the ground," Geryn held his arms out for dramatic effect. "Remember, you could have let me in and stopped that from happening. Now, good day to you!" Geryn turned on his heel, his long, green robe adding to the dramatic impact his words had by blowing out behind him as he strode away. Joric looked across at the Nord, shrugging his shoulders apologetically then quickly turning around and catching up to Geryn.  
He caught him at the stables, and he was stood and examining a large, black horse with interest all over his face. The stable master was with him. "So how much?"  
"What're you willing to pay?"  
"100 Septims?"  
The stable master snorted. "D'ya think I'm stupid? She's worth more than that."  
Geryn rolled his eyes. "Fine. 150?"  
"No! How about 500? D'ya have that much?"  
"I never had 150." Geryn admitted.  
"Then why're you here then?" The stable master shooed Geryn away. "Don't come back again until you stop wasting my time, you damned foreigner!"  
Geryn backed away from the man, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you." He turned around and headed to where Joric was stood a few metres away. "well, that could have gone better."  
Joric looked over at the stable master, who was angrily shovelling horse droppings. "He didn't seem to like you."  
Geryn sighed. "Since we started interacting with more Nords I'm really starting to see the prejudice side of them." He looked across at Joric. "No offense."  
Joric smiled. "None taken. I know what my race are like, and believe me, I'm not proud of it."  
Geryn sighed. "At least you're not on the receiving end. In Falkreath it wasn't that bad, but even in Riverwood the barkeeper at the inn disliked me."  
Joric patted him on the back. "Come on Geryn, cheer up. I'm one Nord who doesn't hate you! Surely there'll be more."  
Geryn grinned at Joric. "Thanks, Joric. I appreciate it." He realised that the sky was reddening. Sunset was fast approaching. "Well, we may as well start moving again. It's not like we're getting into the city, so we may as well take advantage of the extra time that gives us."  
Joric nodded. "So, we'll be travelling at night, then?" He sounded nervous.  
"Yep. Don't worry, I've got a light spell that'll make thinks a little less scary for your poor heart." He grinned.  
Joric laughed. "Hey, I'd like to see you carry this axe around all day!"  
Geryn put his hands behind his back. "That'd be nice, but it's not going to happen." He turned and looked at the road. "Shall we go, then?"  
Joric cast his eyes up and down the long road north that cut through the epic and expansive planes of Whiterun. "Aye, we may as well." He looked back at Geryn. "Perhaps we'll be able to find shelter before dark."  
"Well I hope so." Geryn checked the sun's position. "Although I seriously doubt it."  
Joric gulped nervously. "Right. Well, let's go then."  
Geryn nodded, and they walked away from the stables and onto the road, beginning the dangerous journey across the open planes that surrounded the city of Whiterun.


	11. Chapter 11

Geryn and Joric walked the same, straight and endless road for around thirty minutes before the sun went down. By the time the moons were their best source of light, they had come to the edge of a huge blanket of snow. Geryn cast his candlelight spell, which conjured up a small sphere of bright white light. They stopped before walking onto the snow, as Geryn thought he heard distant shouts from behind them. He looked back, but could not see far enough due to the brightness of his magic, so he quickly dispelled it.  
Joric was confused. "But you only just-"  
Geryn silenced him by raising a hand. "Shhhh!" He listened carefully. He heard more shouting. It sounded like someone was giving orders. Geryn stared into the distance, and saw five torches heading towards along the road at a fast pace. Another order and the torches went out one by one. Then the orders stopped, and Geryn could just about make out five figures picking up their pace. He turned to Joric. "We need to move."  
"But wh-"  
"Quickly!" Geryn didn't know who the figures were, but he didn't like the look of them. For whatever reason, they didn't want to be seen, and to Geryn that made them seem like the kind of people he didn't want to meet on a dark night. Joric looked confused, so as they walked he told him "I saw some people on the road back there who looked like they were stalking us. I don't know if they were, but it's best to be on the safe side." Joric anxiously nodded his agreement, and they kept moving. As they moved deeper into the snowy planes, Geryn started to feel colder and colder, and regretted not buying a robe that could be fastened up when his breath began to become visible and snow began to fall.  
He looked over at Joric, who only seemed to half notice the cold. He noticed that there were quite a lot of pine trees dotted round the area, and after a while they were in a thinly spread forest. His robe had become speckled with snowflakes, and his feet were disappearing with every step. Still, they somehow managed to keep to the road. They followed it for a long time, but after a while Geryn heard their followers again, this time sounding closer. He froze. He could hear orders again, this time picking up a few words like "sneak" and "ambush".  
He looked around and saw a fallen tree just off the road. He tapped Joric on the shoulder and gestured towards it. They both darted for the trunk and leapt behind it, then Geryn listened again. He could hear no more shouts, but not after too long he began to faintly make out boots crunching through the snow. The sound got louder, and eventually Geryn could hear them breathing. He put a finger to Joric's lips as he peaked over the log. He saw two women, a Nord carrying an axe and shield and a Wood Elf carrying a bow, and three men, an Orc carrying a war hammer, a Nord carrying a sword and shield and a Khajiit mage. All of the bandits were wearing rough leather armour aside from the male Nord, who wore thick steel armour and was obviously the leader of the group. The Khajiit looked guilty to be traveling with his shifty companions, and kept glancing around nervously.  
Geryn crept out onto the road behind them. "Oi!" They all turned around. "Are you looking for me?" He threw his arms wide, trying to look cocky and impressive.  
The leader spoke up. "Ah! We are indeed. Weren't you with someone?" When he looked around and saw no sign of Joric, he ordered his men about. "Cat! Go and hold the mage. Varri, Barzabob, Elwyn, go and find his friend! I'll wait here." The bandits went and did their respective jobs, and before Geryn could react the Khajiit had frozen his arms to his sides with a frost spell.  
The mage looked apologetic, and whispered "I'm sorry. Just do as he says and give him what he wants and we won't have to harm you."  
Geryn sympathised with him. "Listen, I can see you don't want to do this, and you don't have to. I can help you get out of this."  
The Khajiit whispered "No, I can't be saved from them." He then spoke more loudly. "Quiet, prisoner!"  
"Look, I can see you're not a bandit at heart, nor a killer." He paused, then added "Me and my friend are headed for The College of Winterhold. You could come with us."  
The Khajiit was about to say something, but was interrupted when the Orc, Barzabob, shouted triumphantly "Found him!"  
Everyone looked over to the log, and saw the Orc dragging Joric by the horns of his helmet out from behind his cover. The leader grinned, showing off an impressive display of decaying or missing teeth. "Perfect! Now, bring them both to me and I'll get their money out of them." The Khajiit gave Geryn an apologetic look and guided him over to the leader, alongside Joric. The Orc bound Joric's hands, then kicked them both onto their knees. "Now," The Nord gave another sickening grin, and Geryn could smell the mead and -he shuddered- _ale _on his breath. He continued. "Which one should I go for first? He looked at Joric. "That's a nice helmet! Don't mind if I do..." He bent down and pulled Joric's helmet off his head, then placed it on his own. He looked at Joric's coin purse, which hung at his belt. "Aha!" He pulled out a knife and cut it open, pocketing the loose coins that fell in the snow. He then kneed Joric square in the face, knocking over backwards and rendering him motionless.  
Geryn was angered. "There was no need for that! You'd taken all you could!"  
The bandit punched Geryn in the face, breaking his jaw. The Breton smiled, and quickly healed the wound with a healing spell, the gold light washing over his face as he experimentally moved it from side to side. The bandit was not pleased with this result. "Oh, you think you're clever?" He drew his sword and lunged at the apparently helpless Geryn. A shield of blue light deflected it, and Geryn just kept eye contact while his ward did its job. The bandit was even more annoyed at this result. "Right then! Let's see what you've got for me..." He knelt down and attempted to rummage through Geryn's satchel. As soon as he tried to prize it open, Geryn cast an armour spell on it, causing it to go rigid. "That's enough!" The bandit exclaimed. He pointed at the Khajiit. "You! Kill him with a spell of some kind, I don't care which one just get it done!"  
The Khajiit looked at Geryn, then back at his chief again. "No."  
"What?!"  
"No. J'zargo is not a bandit at heart, nor a killer." Geryn grinned.  
"What did you just say!?"  
"J'zargo believes that you heard him." He blasted the chief backwards with a fire ball. "Although J'zargo thinks that he can make an exception here!" He threw several more fire balls at the bandit, melting the snow around him and leaving him writhing and screaming in a pool of boiling hot water. His cries slowly died down, until eventually he was silent. J'zargo then turned to the other three bandits. He threw a bolt of lightning at the Orc, killing him instantly and sending him cartwheeling backwards, then said to the other two "Leave, unless you want me to think of another spell to use on the two of you!" They didn't need telling twice, and ran as fast as their legs would carry them.  
J'zargo turned to Geryn, who was smiling at him from ear to ear. "well done, J'zargo! I knew you'd do the right thing!"  
J'zargo melted the ice around Geryn, then untied Joric's limp, momentarily lifeless hands. "Yes, you have persuaded J'zargo to do this for you of your own accord." He looked down at Joric. "This one seems okay, just unconscious."  
Geryn got up, dripping wet from the melted ice. "So you're coming with us to Winterhold?"  
J'zargo grinned, showing off an impressive mouthful of pointy fangs. "Yes, I would very much like to come with you. Besides," He looked at Joric. "You will need competition, and this one does not look very capable when it comes to magic."  
Geryn smiled. It was good to meet a fellow mage in such a harsh land. He walked over to J'zargo, and the two of them began discussing the best method for waking Joric up.


	12. Chapter 12

After some brief introductions, J'zargo and Geryn carried Joric between them so that they could set up camp off the road, and away from the scene of death and destruction that they had left. They placed him down in the snow, and Geryn knelt down to fix his broken nose and wake him up. J'zargo placed a few twigs on the floor in a pile and lit them on fire using magic, and Geryn washed a pool of flowing golden light over Joric's face, fixing the break to his nose and clearing up any other cuts and bruises on his face, leaving it clear. Geryn stood back up again, then called to J'zargo "So how are we going to wake him?"  
"Hmmm, J'zargo has an idea. You know alteration, no?"  
"Yes."  
"Hover some snow over his face..."  
"Why?"  
"Like J'zargo said, he has a plan."  
"Alright..." Geryn didn't know where this was going, but complied and hovered some snow in mid air over Joric's face.  
"Keep it steady..." J'zargo threw a column of flames at the hovering snow, causing it to melt and splash all over Joric's face. He darted up, gasping from the shock.  
Geryn grinned. "How's that for teamwork?"  
J'zargo laughed slightly. "Teamwork? J'zargo did all the thinking."  
Geryn rolled his eyes. "And I did all the heavy lifting."  
J'zargo laughed again. "Heavy lifting? Ha! J'zargo does not think that basic telekinesis qualifies as heavy lifting."  
Joric looked at the two of them, confused and nervous about this new face. "Geryn, what's going on? Who's this?"  
Geryn walked over and helped Joric to his feet. "This is J'zargo, a friend. He's coming with us to the college."  
Joric eyed him up suspiciously. "I could have sworn he was one of the bandits..."  
J'zargo nodded. "I was, but not by choice. I saved your friend here from them."  
Geryn smiled. "After my encouragement." He turned to J'zargo, growing serious. "So how did you end up with those bandits?"  
J'zargo sighed. "I was with a wealthy Khajiit trading caravan, working as one of the guards. The bandits attacked us, and in the fight I was knocked unconscious. When I awoke, I was in a cell in a fort full of bandits. They promised that I they would spare me if I leant them my magic, so I did."  
Geryn looked him in the eye. "What happened to the other Khajiit?"  
J'zargo shrugged, then looked at the snowy white horizon. "I don't know. They were holding them prisoner as well. I felt terrible leaving them there. It wasn't long ago, this was my first job. They're probably still there now."  
Geryn felt sorry for him. "Where is it?"  
"What?"  
"The fort. Where is it?"  
It was way back on the planes again, we'd have to backtrack for a long time to get there."  
Geryn put a hand on J'zargo's shoulder. "We can do that."  
J'zargo looked back at Geryn. "Are you sure?"  
"Yes. If we can save your friends, we will."  
J'zargo smiled gratefully, then Joric spoke up. "Erm... does this mean we're going back the other way?"  
Geryn looked at him, seeing that he seemed very unenthusiastic at the idea. "Yes, it does. I'm not just going to let innocent people die and rot in a prison cell." He turned back to J'zargo. "So when do you want to leave?"  
J'zargo looked up at the moons, saying "We could go in the night time. We've got hours of darkness left, and we could take them by surprise."  
Geryn nodded. "Right, then. Let's snuff out that fire and get to that fort, then."  
J'zargo grinned, excited by the chance of seeing his friends again. "Yes! Thank you, Geryn, thank you!"  
Joric did not like the sound of that. "But-"  
Geryn turned on him, raising a finger and pointing accusingly at him. "But what? We've got a chance to save lives, here. I'm not going to waste that! Now, we're going, whether you come with us or not!" He was angry that Joric would try and object to the mission.  
"But what if we don't make it?"  
Geryn rubbed his eyes in frustration, then exclaimed "This is more than our lives on the line here, Joric! We could save half a dozen innocents, maybe more! Or, if you want, we could carry on and ignore them!" He ran his hand through his hair, grabbing it and almost pulling it out. "You need to toughen up, man! You're a Nord, and a soldier, so start acting like one!"  
Joric backed away slightly. Geryn's hands were glowing, primed for magic. "If we die then-"  
"We won't! Nobody needs to die! We can pay a ransom, or sneak them out! I don't care, but we _will _save them!"  
Geryn pulled his hands away from his hair, which was steaming from the magic that had been given off by his hands. Joric looked down and saw that his hands were shaking, charging. "Geryn... you need to-"  
"What? Calm down? How can I be calm about this?" He released the spell, sending it hurtling off into the sky in a ball of green light.  
Joric straightened his posture. He punched Geryn in the jaw, knocking him down and his jaw out of place. "You're the one getting angry over this! I'm bigger than you! I'm stronger than you! I'm not a coward!" His breathing was heavy and his face crimson.  
Geryn got up, shocked. He put a hand to his jaw, feeling the warm healing magic wash over his face and pop all the bones back into place. His face showed nothing but anger and hate, and he spoke quietly. "You are a coward. You've proven that again and again... and now again."  
Joric's face betrayed his regret, and he reached out to put a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Geryn, I..."  
"I don't care! Don't talk to me!" Geryn was still nursing his jaw.  
"I..." He turned away, clenching his fists. "It doesn't matter."  
"No, it doesn't!"  
Joric sounded upset. He turned back around again. "Geryn, I'm sorry..."  
Geryn took no notice, and kicked snow onto the fire, turned on his heel and said "Come on, we're leaving!" He walked briskly back onto the road, footsteps following behind him. Whose, he didn't bother to check.


	13. Chapter 13

Geryn stormed down the roads, his robe billowing out behind him and his hand glowing and buzzing with magic. His boots crunched loudly in the snow, and his face was stern and expressionless. He felt someone walk up along side him. He didn't bother to look. "Geryn?" A Khajiit voice said. "Your friend stayed behind. He did not say anything more, and I could not see his face as it was in his hands." Geryn gave no response. "You have to talk to somebody." J'zargo walked ahead and stopped in front of him, turning around and placing a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stop. "I'm sure he didn't mean to hit you. We all lash out, and you both look deprived of sleep."  
Geryn shook his head. "Joric's done worse. He once left me to the mercy of a clan of bandits. Who does that?"  
J'zargo looked awkward. "Well, J'zargo has, and he regrets it. You have to understand that people have different reasons for doing things."  
"Oh, I understand that." Geryn put his head in his hands. "Just like there's a reason I'm doing this."  
J'zargo inquired further. "Which is...?"  
Geryn shook his head. "I... don't want to talk about it. I don't think I've ever told anyone, actually."  
"It usually helps to tell someone."  
Geryn gave a small, sad laugh. "Not this time. I'll just tell you that it's the reason I left Cyrodiil, to both get away and to learn magic."  
"To get away from what?" J'zargo had genuine concern in his voice. Geryn just moved his hand away from his shoulder and carried on walking.  
They walked back along the road in silence after that, until they came to the planes again and exited the snowy fields. J'zargo pointed west. "The fort is that way." They then went in that direction for at least another half an hour until they rounded some rocks and stopped, seeing a few torches about fifty metres ahead of them. Geryn looked at J'zargo questioningly, and J'zargo nodded.  
Geryn sighed, then said "Could you get in without violence? They know you were a part of the clan, right?"  
J'zargo shook his head. "They know me, but none of them liked me. They all distrusted me a great deal, so if I were to turn up on my own after leaving with a larger party then they would be suspicious. I suggest that we use an alternative entrance."  
"Do you know one?"  
"Yes, follow me." They moved in closer, and as they approached Geryn could make out the walls of the fort. They were made out of simple wooden stakes, were about 8 feet high and had a few platforms that were patrolled by lookouts. They didn't get too close, and eventually they came to a large hole in the ground. J'zargo leaned over the edge and had a look. "This is where we get in."  
"We're going to jump in there?"  
"I want you to cast a light spell into it."  
"Right..." Geryn obliged, casting a ball of bright white light from his hands into the pit. When it was illuminated, he saw a tunnel leading off from it about ten feet bellow them, but it was filled with wooden spikes, some of which still bore the bodies of their victims. A pool of blood rested at the bottom of the pit, and Geryn almost wretched when he was hit by the smell.  
J'zargo set the wooden spikes on fire with a simple flame spell, then ordered Geryn to plug the top of the pit with a ward spell. He did so, and very quickly the smoke inside the pit began to build up dramatically, increasing the amount of effort Geryn had to put into maintaining his ward and eventually filling the hole and drifting into the tunnel that lead off from it. Geryn grinned. _Clever, _he thought to himself. Then a problem occurred to him. "If we're filling the place with gas, then won't that harm your friends?"  
J'zargo shook his head, grinning smugly. "The prison cells are on the lower levels. The smoke will not reach them as it will be rising, not falling."  
Geryn nodded. "Good point." He watched as over at the fort smoke began to emerge from the door that lead to the tunnels, closely followed by coughing and spluttering bandits. Geryn smiled. "It's worked!" He saw that J'zargo was looking even more smug. "Now release that ward and let's get in there!" Geryn nodded, letting go of the ward and watching as a huge plume of black smoke rose high into the sky. They both leapt down into the abyss together, and instantly they were plunged into hot, smoggy darkness.  
Geryn cast a ward around them both, which cleared away the smoke around the two of them and made breathing a lot less difficult. J'zargo pointed in the direction the tunnel was in. "This way!" They ran into the tunnel, surrounded by darkness and getting extremely warm. Geryn had a hard time maintaining his ward, but carried on regardless, knowing that to give up was to die. After what seemed like hours of walking through the hellish, blind tunnels J'zargo told Geryn to turn left. He did, and they came into a corridor that lead them downwards and eventually out of the smoke.  
Geryn released the ward, sweating from both the heat and the exhaustion of holding such a spell for such an extended period of time. He collapsed to his knees, and felt his robes absorbing the magicka from the air around him and pumping it into his body, giving him strength. He slowly got up, with J'zargo's help, and they ran down the tunnel. They went for quite a while, eventually coming to a corridor that no longer headed downwards and was lined with cells. There were no bandits present, and Geryn looked in most of the cells and found nothing.  
J'zargo ran ahead, knowing exactly which cell his friends were in. Geryn lagged behind, still exhausted, and looked in each of the cells. He was surprised when he found that one of them was inhabited, and peered in to see if he could make out what they looked like. He saw that it was a woman, but couldn't see anything beyond the fact that she was lying on a bedroll at one end of the room. "Hello?" He called inside.  
She sounded shocked. "You? How'd you get here?"  
Geryn was confused, he was sure he'd never met this woman before. "Excuse me?"  
She stepped into the light. "Gods, I'm sorry about what happened." It was the Wood Elf bandit, Elwyn, from before.  
"You?" Geryn was still confused. "How'd _you _get in there?"  
She sighed. "That damned Nordic bitch that I got here with said that I helped J'zargo and you escape! Obviously everyone trusted her and not me, the _backstabbing elf. _They threw me in here not long ago."  
"And you say you're sorry?"  
"Yes, Gods yes!" She sounded regretful. "I only joined this clan when my home town, Helgen, was destroyed. I found- well, they _kidnapped _me and said that if I didn't work for them then they'd kill me!" She eyed Geryn up suspiciously. "You don't hate elves, do you?"  
Geryn shook his head. "How could I? I'm half elf!"  
Elwyn smiled. "Good! Could you bust me out?"  
Geryn considered it, then nodded. "Stand back." He used telekinesis to grab the biggest stone he could see and launch it at the lock. It rattled, and Elwyn pushed the door open, running over and hugging Geryn.  
"Thank you! You won't regret it." She backed away, awkwardly clearing her throat. Geryn smiled, then heard a cry of frustration coming from J'zargo. Geryn and Elwyn ran over to find him smashing a rock against the lock to another cell.  
"Help me!" He exclaimed. Elwyn ran over and pulled out a tiny wire, which she used to expertly pick the lock. Without even questioning her presence, J'zargo flung the door open and burst inside the cell. He lit a nearby torch and let out a cry of anguish. In front of him were the bodies of several Khajiit, most of which were curled up in the foetal position. He dropped to his knees, crying out again, joining his fallen comrades and curling up on the floor, sobbing. Geryn was horrified by the sight, and Elwyn turned away, retching and covering her mouth. J'zargo crawled over to one of the bodies, hugging it and cradling it as he sobbed, rocking back and forth.  
Geryn walked over and put a consoling arm around his shoulders. J'zargo dropped the body he had hold of and covered his face, rubbing his eyes every so often. Geryn felt awful for him, and guided him to his feet and away from the gruesome scene. Elwyn looked at the two leaving the cell and turned away again, guilty that she couldn't do anything. Geryn shook his head. It had all been for nothing.


	14. Chapter 14

While Geryn and J'zargo lagged behind, Elwyn ran ahead and looked into the corridor that they had come from. She pulled her head back again, choking with one hand over her mouth. "Gods, it's smoky up there. What's going on?"  
Geryn brought J'zargo up to the corridor. "Long story." He cast a ward in front of him and began walking up the corridor, back towards the pit. The smoke was a lot less thick now, and the air was a lot less stuffy. They made it to the pit, and Geryn came to the sudden realisation that they had no way out. "Ah... damn it. We're trapped!"  
Elwyn stared back into the tunnel, then up ay the sky, which was still dark and starry. "Oh gods... what do we do?"  
Geryn heard voices coming down the corridor. "I don't know! Let me think!" His mind raced, trying desperately to think of a way out. He walked away from J'zargo, who was staring into space blankly. He grabbed his hair with both hands, almost ripping it out as he thought. "Damn it! This was all a waste of time!"  
Elwyn looked offended. "Hey! You freed me!"  
Geryn turned to her. "Don't you see that that doesn't matter? We're going to die, Elwyn, there's no escape!" He turned away again. "We're going to die here. There's no way we can escape."  
"So, what, you're giving up? Is that it."  
Geryn sighed with frustration. "No... I don't know!"  
Elwyn looked Geryn up and down, taking in his exhausted posture and the look of defeat in his eyes. "Well it definitely seems that way." She thought back to when she first saw him. "I thought you were brave, unbeatable! When we first mugged you, you were so defiant! So confident! You didn't let the chief hurt you, no matter how hard he tried! You managed to face down an armed criminal without using a weapon! What happened to _that _attitude?"  
Geryn raised his voice. "Where to start? We just saw a man lose everyone he ever loved! The man whose life I saved just abandoned me! My parents died before I left the Imperial City! My father killed himself right in front of me!" He quietened down, putting his head in his hands. "That's where my determination went, Elwyn." He collapsed to a sitting position, and looked up at her. "I've never told anyone that last bit... about my parents... if we make it out of here, don't share it."  
Elwyn stared at Geryn. He looked beaten and shook with frustration. She walked over and sat next to him. "I won't." More shouting echoed through the tunnel. "They're nearly here." She looked across at Geryn. "You're right. It's hopeless."  
Then, to everyone's surprise, J'zargo spoke, quietly but audibly. "No." Without another word he stormed off, back into the tunnel, without looking back and with his hands smoking with magic. Elwyn took a step to follow him but Geryn put a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. A few seconds later, shouting could be heard down the corridor, followed by explosions, followed by screams. There were more shouts, explosions and screams, each time getting more and more distant, and eventually Geryn dropped his hand from Elwyn's shoulder and took off, sprinting down the corridor. The smoke had picked up again, but Geryn didn't use magic this time, instead just throwing an arm over his face. The further he got down the corridor, the thicker the smoke got, until eventually he entered what he assumed was the fort itself, still underground but this time a much larger room, filled with wooden platforms and supports. There was a door with sunlight coming through at the top of the room that had wooden catwalks leading up to it. Their only escape. Everything wooden was on fire, so they didn't have much time. _J'zargo wrecked this place, _he thought. _I hope he got out._  
Geryn looked back and saw Elwyn catching up to him, coughing and spluttering. She looked up at the exit then back at Geryn. Their eyes met, and they both nodded. They charged at the stairs that lead up to the walkways, ignoring the flames around them. At the other side of the room a support beam collapsed, letting loose a barrage of rocks onto the ground bellow. They didn't watch. They just ran. Elwyn was slightly swifter than Geryn, and was slightly ahead of him. A boulder fell from the ceiling just behind them, ripping the walkways behind them apart. Still they ran, determination in both of their eyes. They reached the platform at the top. Behind them another part of the stony ceiling collapsed. One of the platform's supports gave way. It rocked. They ran to the door. Elwyn opened it and burst through. Another support gave way. The platform fell with Geryn still stood on it. His and Elwyn's eyes met as she turned around. She desperately ran back inside. She fell to the floor and reached her hand out to grab him, but to no avail. The last she saw of him was his face, which looked smug, as if to say _I told you so. _His platform shattered on the ground and he disappeared in the flames.


	15. Chapter 15

Elwyn placed her head on the ground, defeated. _It's my fault he died, _she thought to herself. _I ran ahead, I could've saved him..._ She slowly got to her feet and turned around to see J'zargo, hands on fire, staring across at the destruction he'd caused. _No, _she thought, suddenly angry. _It's his fault. He's the one who burned the place to the ground. _he stormed over to J'zargo, who was completely motionless, and punched him in the face, knocking him over. "You!" She exclaimed. "You're the one who killed him!"  
J'zargo returned to reality, then looked up at Elwyn. "What? Killed who?"  
Elwyn was furious. "Geryn! He's dead because you burned that place down!"  
J'zargo suddenly looked horrified, his face filled with guilt and grief. "What? Gods, no! I didn't mean to, I swear!"  
Elwyn looked back at the destruction J'zargo had caused. "Well you did! Look at what you've done, J'zargo! You've killed everyone!"  
J'zargo looked around him. "By the twin moons..."  
Elwyn stormed outside the walls of the fort. "I'm done here." As she stormed away, she ran into someone who had been running towards the fort. "Out of my-" She froze, recognising the other man from the mugging earlier that night. "Oh gods..."  
Joric gasped. "You're that bandit! You-"  
Elwyn held up her hands. "Wait! You don't understand, I'm not one of them anymore!" She then looked back at the wreckage. "Gods... there's something I need to tell you..."  
Joric looked worried. "What is it?"  
J'zargo caught up with them. "Joric! Has she told you?"  
Joric was anxious to know what was going on. "Told me what?!"  
Elwyn and J'zargo lead him away. "Come on," Elwyn began. "Let's get away from here first."

The Forsworn looter grinned. They were gone, the coast was clear. He signalled to his raiding party, and they all moved in. The leader of the party, a Briarheart, lead the way into the wreckage. He looked around, sniffing the air. "There's still a powerful mage here." He sniffed again. "Dead. Find me the body!"  
His looters went to work, searching around until one of them came across a door that lead to a huge, half collapsed cavern. The Briarheart rushed over. He sniffed again. "Yes, Yes! In there! One of you get down there and find me that mage's corpse! Now!" He licked his lips. If the body was in good enough condition then they'd revive it, bringing it back as a Briarheart. If not, then he'd just have to take its robes and be done with it.  
After a few hours of digging through the rubble, one of his many looters triumphantly shouted up "I've found something, sir!" The Briarheart grinned, running down into the ruins and investigating the find. It was a body, that was for sure, a Breton wearing a long, dark green robe and a hood, with a satchel slung over its shoulder. There was a dome of blue light surrounding it, a ward, and the Briarheart knew that the man must have died casting the ward, which is why the flames hadn't harmed the corpse. He had in fact only died as there was a large, wooden splinter sticking out from his chest, piercing his heart. This was perfect, the Briarheart thought to himself, the heart was the only part of the body they _didn't _need. He ordered his men to pick up the body, which they did, and he lead the way with his large hunting party out of the ruin and back towards their home, in the western hold of The Reach.

Joric, J'zargo and Elwyn all walked along in silence. They were back in the snowy planes of The Pale again and were still heading for The College of Winterhold. Everyone was grieving, aside from Elwyn. She was upset, yes, but didn't know Geryn very well at all. She felt slightly awkward, being the only one in the group who hadn't known him. She had stopped blaming J'zargo and begun blaming herself again. After all, if she hadn't asked to be freed in the first place then J'zargo and Geryn may have gotten out faster. And if she hadn't ran ahead, then maybe she could have caught Geryn and stopped him from falling to his death. She felt her heart weighed down in guilt. It was her fault, and nobody else's.  
J'zargo was having similar thoughts. It was his rage that had destroyed the fort, and ultimately it was his rage that had killed Geryn. If he had been able to control himself then maybe he could have found another way out. He looked at Joric. The poor man had known Geryn well. If he had just listened to the Nord then they wouldn't have gone back for his family. They were dead anyway, they couldn't be saved. And now, because of him and him alone, Geryn was dead.  
Joric was the most profoundly affected out of the three. He had been the first man to befriend Geryn when he arrived in Skyrim, and Geryn had been saving his life and looking out for him from the start. If he'd have just been able to control himself and not lash out a him, then he wouldn't have stormed away and might have been persuaded not to go to the fort. Or he could've gone with him. Then they might have all gotten out of the fort safely. He looked at the two people walking alongside him. He barely knew either of them. If Geryn were there then he would have had someone to talk to. But Geryn wasn't there. Geryn wasn't there because of Joric's cowardice.  
The sun was rising and without saying a word to each other they carried on walking north, still on the road to Winterhold not only for J'zargo's sake, but in Geryn's name. They would complete his quest and arrive in Winterhold, just as he intended to before he met his horrible, violent end.


	16. Chapter 16

The Briarheart grinned hungrily as his men laid the mage's corpse out on his work table, deep in the dwarven ruin of Bthardamz. The servants exited the room, leaving the Briarheart alone with his subject. _Soon, _he thought. _Soon you will become like me. _He rubbed his hands together, reaching over to one of his shelves and grabbing a scalpel. He used it to cut open the man's chest, exposing the heart, which had a gaping tear in it from the splinter that had pierced it. He then carelessly cut each blood vessel away, leaving the heart free and detached. He looked at the body. It now had an empty hole in its chest where its heart should have been.  
He then began to surround the body with the magical ingredients required to return life to the body. He then realised he was missing the most vital ingredient, the briarheart itself. He cursed, looking everywhere but finding nothing. He swiftly exited the room, muttering and grumbling to himself as he left.  
At that moment, a blue haze gathered around the body, particularly the robes. The haze soon became a stream of magicka, flowing from the magical ingredients and into the robes, which transferred it into the body. The body's eyes shot open, and it sat up, gasping for air.  
Colour returned to Geryn's face, and he gasped heavily as he returned the vital air to his lungs. Suddenly, everything came flooding back. The fort. The fire. How he died... Then it hit him. He died! He leapt from the table, hands racing up and down his body. He felt like he was missing something. "Right, legs. Arms. Head. Hair." He checked off each part of his body as he felt it. "Feet. Hands. Toes. Fingers. Chest." He gasped, prodding around at the hole in his chest. "I've got no heart!" He then looked at the items laid out in front of him, which were glowing a bright blue. "What's going on? Are they keeping me alive?" Just then, a man in savage looking animal pelts, carrying a heart made of thorns burst in, staring at Geryn in shock.  
"What's going on here?"  
Geryn looked the man up and down. "Where am I?"  
"Lie back down, now!"  
Geryn took in the man's appearance, examining his clothes and strange war paint. Then it hit him. "Oh, that's who you are! You're a Forsworn, looking to make me a Briarheart were we?" He grinned. "Well, looks like your little ritual's gone wrong! Now, if you don't mind me I'll be leaving."  
The Briarheart shook his head. "I wouldn't do that. These items will keep you alive, but only for a few minutes. You can either take the heart of thorns or die."  
Geryn suddenly saw his dilemma. "So, either make a pact to serve the old gods and become a crazed savage or die. Hmmm..."  
The Briarheart grinned. "Do it, take the heart!"  
Geryn looked at the man. He was clearly a Briarheart, that much was obvious. He didn't want to become that, ever. "No. I can't." When the man was about to try and pressure him into it, Geryn punched him in the temple, knocking him to the floor, unconscious. The heart hit the floor with a wet slap. Geryn then began searching for his own heart frantically. He was devastated when he found it with a huge hole torn through it, and tossed it to one side. He then began looking at everything else in the room. The shelves were lined with all kinds of magical items, and he examined each one carefully. Then he saw something that raised his hopes. A dwarven dynamo core. The small golden contraption still glowed brightly, and Geryn hoped that it would sustain his life in the same way as a briarheart.  
He lifted up his tunic to expose his horrendously mutilated chest and placed the small ball of golden metal and red light in the wound. He then used healing magic to attach the veins and arteries to the core, and they somehow did. He just prayed that the ball of pure magicka within would be enough to sustain life. _If a ball of thorns works, _he thought, _so will a ball of magicka._ He used another healing spell to close his chest again, leaving a large scar. His chest now looked very unusual, as the red glow given off by his 'heart' shone through the skin and flesh and caused the centre of his chest to glow crimson very faintly. He felt the blood begin to pump back around his body again, the flow sustained by the constant stream of magic that now flowed through his veins.  
He sighed with relief. It had worked. He grinned when he realised that he had just invented a new form of magical sustenance, and that he must have been the first person to ever live off of pure magicka. That made him think, what were the implications? He wondered at how this may effect him, realising that it would probably make him a lot more powerful when it comes to magic. He would also probably live a lot longer, most magical beings did, and the dwarven automatons still worked, which were powered by dwarven dynamo cores. Maybe he would even live forever.  
He saw the Briarheart getting to his feet. The man got up and saw Geryn, who should have been dead. "What? That's not possible, you're supposed to be dead!"  
Geryn laughed. "I know! And guess whose fault it is that I'm not!"  
The Briarheart looked both terrified and confused. "But... how?"  
Geryn lifted his tunic, showing off his glowing red scar. "A dynamo core was enough to sustain me! I didn't even know if it'd work myself but I'm very glad that it." He pulled his shirt back down again, walking over to the Briarheart and stomping on the heart he had prepared. "Sorry, but I need to go and find my friends."  
"No!" The Briarheart was chasing him as he left the room. He stopped in front of him, blocking the way. "You can't leave! You just can't!"  
"Oh? And why not?"  
"I have spent months looking for a new subject to become a Briarheart! You're perfect!"  
"I'm flattered, but I must be on my way. Bye!" Geryn pushed past the Briarheart and carried on down the corridor.  
"But..." Geryn entered a room with two Forsworn inside. The Briarheart called to them. "Kill him! He's trying to escape!" They drew savage looking axes, charging at Geryn with bloodlust in their eyes. He charged at them with a ward, knocking them off their feet. He then used telekinesis to throw their axes at each other by the blunt end, knocking them both out. He carried on walking to the door at the other end of the room that happened to lead outside.


	17. Chapter 17

Geryn burst out of the huge, golden double doors, blinking rapidly as he emerged into the gleaming midday sunlight. He looked around and saw that he was in a large dwarven courtyard, at the bottom of a stone staircase which lead up to the gate that was his escape. Blocking him were dozens of Forsworn warriors, all fighting off Imperial soldiers that had gotten within the walls of the courtyard. He heard the Briarheart emerge from the doors behind him. "What? Again?" He angrily exclaimed. "These Imperials are ridiculous!" He rushed out into the battle, forgetting Geryn. He flung spells madly, freezing Imperials here and scorching them there.  
Geryn rushed into the fight after him, magically paralysing as many Forsworn as he could as he made for the gate. When he got there, he was blocked off by a sudden rush of Imperial soldiers through the gate. He dived to one side and watched as the Imperials cut down as many of the Forsworn as got in their way. The Forsworn met the rush with one of their own from within the depths of Bthardamz, bursting out of the doors screeching and howling like wild animals. Geryn watched as the numbers of both sides slowly reduced, littering the floor with bodies and bits of bodies. He turned to leave, but was blocked off again, this time by an Imperial soldier in heavy steel armour that had been stopping men from both sides from fleeing. "Halt!" The man looked Geryn up and down, not recognising his robes as those of either Imperial or Forsworn mages. "Are you Imperial?"  
Geryn didn't know what to say. "Ah! Well, yes... no. Not an Imperial as such, although I'm happy to-"  
"Enough!" The soldier looked over Geryn's shoulder at the battle below. "Will you help us or not?" He drew his sword.  
Geryn grinned. "Of course!" He turned and rushed back into the battle.  
As soon as he got close a barrage of Forsworn arrows came rushing towards him. He put a hand out in front of himself and cast telekinesis, stopping them all in mid air before they reached him. He kept hold of the arrows until he saw the Briarheart, who he lobbed the bundle of arrows directly at. He saw this out of the corner of his eye and blocked it with a ward, much to Geryn's annoyance. He then charged towards Geryn, his hands on fire and his eyes filled with the insanity of a berserker rage. He flung several fireballs at Geryn, then used telekinesis again, this time grabbing a large dwemer tile and using it as a shield, before he once again launched that at the Briarheart. This time it hit him, sending him flying backwards with it. He hit a wall hard, and collapsed on top of the tile. He slowly got to his feet, then send several ice spikes at Geryn instead. Geryn dived out of the way, this time being hit in the leg by one of the icy spears. It went straight through, and Geryn saw that hot, steaming blood was pouring out of his leg, and that his blood quickly melted away the frozen projectile. He healed himself, wincing slightly at the pain. The fact that his blood was now so hot indicated that the dynamo core had made it that way, and he smiled. _Well at least that's one of the effects sussed, _He thought. He got to his feet, and cast a quick armour spell to avoid that happening again.  
He sent a paralysis spell at his assailant, who rigidly collapsed to the floor. He grinned, turning to fight with the lesser Forsworn for the rest of the battle, dealing with most of them in much the same way he had dealt with their leader and healing any wounded Imperials that he came across.

After a few hours the battle was won, and Geryn carefully stepped over the bodies that littered the courtyard as he made for the gate. He exited the battlefield, about to leave it behind for good before he heard a voice behind him. "Not so fast."  
He turned around and saw an important looking man, with thinning grey hair and a thin, pale face. His armour was leather which had been made to look gold, and on it was a huge Imperial Dragon emblem. He had a short red cape, and a sword hung at his hip.  
"Excuse me?"  
The man walked towards Geryn. "I'm the General Tullius of the Imperial Legion. I saw you fighting for us today."  
Geryn shrugged. "I didn't kill anyone. I just helped out."  
"Yes, well that help you provided may have won us this battle. This fort was vital in defending The Reach from Ulfric's men and we've been trying to capture it for days. On behalf of the Empire, I thank you."  
Geryn was surprised. "Gods, I'm in the Reach?"  
"Is this a problem?"  
Geryn nodded. "Well... yes. I'm trying to get to The College of Winterhold. I was in Whiterun hold last time I checked."  
General Tullius thought Geryn a fool for this. "Ha! How can anyone manage that?"  
Geryn folded his arms. "It's... a long story." He looked around at the Imperials headed towards their camp. "Once you leave here are you going back to Solitude?"  
The General nodded. "Yes. I can provide you with a map of Skyrim to help you get to the college. You've earned at least that much."  
Geryn smiled. "Yes, that'll do very nicely. Thank you."  
Tullius began heading towards the Imperial camp. "Follow me. I'll get that map and you can be on your way."


	18. Chapter 18

Geryn left the Imperial camp the next morning, after spending the night in a tent. His satchel now contained the map that General Tullius had given him, and he now knew where he was going. He was already quite far north, so now all he needed to do was head east for a few days and he would be at Winterhold. It was a frosty morning in the Reach, and he took in the landscape. All around him were huge rock outcrops and cliffs, and the floor was relatively slippery due to the frost. He walked for miles through the hold, without seeing much at all. He had decided that he was going to head up to Solitude and buy a horse as soon as the road went that way, as enough time had been wasted already and he wanted to arrive at the college as quickly as possible.  
He saw a fork in the road, and after consulting his map decided that it would take him into Haafingar, the hold which hosted the city of Solitude. It would first, however, take him to the small village of Dragonbridge. He turned left, taking the quick detour to the north that he calculated would take him to Solitude. He walked for a few more hours and eventually arrived at Dragonbridge. He stared in aw for a moment as he admired the bridge that lead into the village, which was a huge stone structure with a statue of a dragon's head at either end.  
Geryn crossed the bridge, entering the village. It was a tiny place, consisting of only four buildings, a farm, an inn, an Imperial outpost and a mill. Geryn went inside the inn, _The Four Shields, _and approached the bar. He had no intention of entering Solitude so instead he would eat now. He ordered breakfast, refused an offer of a mug of ale, ate and left again, carrying on along the road to Solitude.  
It wasn't long before he was stood in the Solitude stables, bartering with the stable master. He had more money this time, as Tullius had paid him for his help, so this time he quite easily managed to get a horse. Its fur was an off-gold colour, and he road it away from the stables at a trot. He barely even glanced at the city, determined to keep up his pace and get to the college as quickly as he possibly could.  
The horse took him along the road a lot quicker than he could have gone himself, and it was only midday when he exited Haafingar and made it into the marshes of Hjaalmarch. His horse tired around half an hour later, so he was slowed to a walk. It didn't matter too much, however, as he was fast approaching The Pale, the last hold between him and Winterhold hold.  
He arrived in the snowy reaches of The Pale around an hour later, and by sunset his horse was slowly plodding along into its capital, Dawnstar. Geryn left his horse tied up outside the inn, _The Frost Fruit, _and went inside, not even bothering to order food and instead renting a room, collapsing into the bed gratefully and quickly drifting off to sleep.

Elwyn, J'zargo and Joric arrived in Dawnstar after walking for the last two days. They were exhausted, and none of them had slept in the last couple of days. The found the towns inn, _The Frost Fruit_, and went inside. Before he entered, Joric commented on the horse tied up outside, saying how he hoped that didn't mean there was a rich, arrogant nobleman inside.  
Elwyn lead the way in, approaching the bar before her companions and asking if she could rent a room. She needed to sleep, and wasn't going to wait her turn. To her annoyance, the Innkeeper denied her request. "Why not?" The Elf demanded, tired and in a very bad mood.  
"Some fella already rented the last room." She pointed to the room in question. "Take it up with him if you want, I couldn't care less." The Innkeeper was evidently as tired as Elwyn, and she went back to her work, muttering about nightmares.  
Elwyn gritted her teeth. "OH, I'll take it up with him." She pulled out a bow that she'd found on her travels and nocked an arrow. She wasn't going to kill the man, but she would give him a hard time. She'd show him.

Geryn darted awake after only a couple of hours sleep when an arrow hit the headrest of his bed. He leapt up, sleep binding his eyes shut and felt a small fist land firmly on his nose.

Elwyn went through a stage of anger at the man who rented _her _room (at which point she shot as close to the man's head as she dared), then a stage of shock at seeing Geryn alive, then a stage of anger again, this time because he tricked them all into thinking he was dead. Her fist landed firmly in the middle of his face.

Geryn was a lot more awake after that, and his eyes shot open as he saw a very angry Wood Elf stood over him. He nursed his bloody nose, realising who his attacker was. "I probably deserved that, didn't I?"

Elwyn threw her bow to the ground. "We thought you were dead! We were all grieving and everything!"  
Geryn looked confused. "Really? Well, I'm terribly sorry, won't happen again." He grinned.  
Elwyn shook her head in disbelief. "I barely even knew you." She thought back to the moment he fell. "But you died! I watched it happen!"  
Geryn nodded. "Yeah, I did die a little bit." He held his hands out. "But I got better, didn't I? Not many people can say that!"  
"_You got better? _Do you realise how much you've affected us?"  
"A lot?"  
"A lot." She turned to the doorway. "Joric, J'zargo! You'd better come in here!"  
"Can we not do this now?" Geryn was tired and in no mood for emotional reunions.  
"Oh, we're doing it now." Elwyn looked smug, and Geryn sighed. He wasn't going to get a good night's sleep, it seemed.


	19. Chapter 19

J'zargo and Joric watched as Elwyn stormed off, bow in hand, towards the occupied room. Joric approached the bar. "I'd like to rent a-"  
The innkeeper interrupted him, sounding irritated. "Nope. All booked up. Better luck next time."  
J'zargo walked up and stood next to Joric. "What's going on?"  
Joric looked across at him. "No more rooms."  
"Well what shall we do now?"  
The innkeeper interjected. "Are you two going to buy anything or are you just here to waste my time?"  
Joric sighed. "I'll an ale."  
J'zargo looked at the innkeeper. "Same for me."  
The woman produced two bottles of ale. "That'll be 7 Septims each."  
Joric produced his 7, but J'zargo only produced 4. "Bah. That's all I've got. Joric?"  
Joric irritably pulled out another 3. "There."  
The woman rolled her eyes, taking the money and pushing the bottles across to the two customers. Joric picked his up, taking a large, thirsty gulp. J'zargo cautiously took a sip, then took a large swig when he decided it was acceptable. J'zargo looked over a Joric, who was now gulping down the entire thing at once. He turned to the innkeeper and ordered another bottle. J'zargo shook his head, taking another small swig.

Elwyn looked back to Geryn. He sighed. "Can't this wait until morning?"  
"Nope. I've called them over now. Besides," She turned and saw Joric and J'zargo coming towards the room. "You're the one who faked his death."  
Joric walked in, staggering slightly and slurring his words. "Who baked and left?"  
Elwyn rolled her eyes. "_Faked their death, _Joric."  
Joric hiccupped slightly, then said. "Oh. Who did that, eh?"  
J'zargo walked in, looking ashamed of his friend. "Who did what?"  
Joric smiled dumbly. "Someone faked their death." He slurred.  
J'zargo looked shocked. "Who?"  
Geryn stepped forward. "Nobody's faked their death, okay?"  
J'zargo saw Geryn, and his eyes widened. "But... but you're..." He fainted, hitting the ground facedown with a thud.  
Geryn ran over and tried to catch him, failing completely as he stopped for a moment and winced when the cat hit the ground. "Gods, come on, J'zargo!" He dragged him over and put him on the bed. When he looked up he saw Joric staring at him, a stupid grin fixed on his face. Geryn smiled awkwardly. "Hello, Joric."  
Joric staggered forward, still grinning and slurring the words "Geryn! Come 'ere, you..." He threw his arms open for an embrace. Seeing that the man was drunk beyond his wits, Geryn stepped to one side, preferring to avoid a drunken embrace from a Nord that size. When Joric's arms met with nothing but empty space he staggered forwards a foot or so and hit the wall. He collapsed, his face leaning against the wall. In the silence Geryn heard both him and J'zargo snoring. He shook his head, putting Joric (with great difficulty) onto the bed, next to J'zargo.  
He turned to Elwyn. "That went well, I feel."  
Elwyn was not impressed. "Well? You think it went well? You didn't explain anything to them!"  
Geryn shrugged his shoulders. "True."  
Elwyn gritted her teeth. "J'zargo fainted and I doubt Joric will even remember this!"  
"Well, they're getting some sleep, at least there's that."  
Elwyn shook her head. "Just... at least explain to me." She calmed slightly, taking slow, deep breaths. "What happened?"  
Geryn gestured for them to leave the room. "Shall we let these two get some sleep?"  
"Right." Elwyn lead the way out of the room, and they found a table to sit at near the back of the inn. "So," Elwyn began. "What actually happened to you?"  
Geryn sighed. "Well, as I fell I supposed that out of sheer panic I cast a ward spell to defend myself from the flames. I still died, but my body wasn't disintegrated because of the ward. Spells, you see, don't require life to sustain them. If you die casting a spell then your body will continue to cast it until you run out of magicka."  
Elwyn was confused. "So, you're dead? What are you a ghost or some sort of vampire or...?"  
"Oh, no. Like I said, I got better. A Briarheart found my body and tried to make me a Briarheart as well. The ritual went wrong and I woke up just after he'd removed my heart." He put a hand to his chest. "I can tell you that finding a gaping hole where your heart should be is _not _a pleasant experience. Definitely not one I intend on repeating..."  
"So what, you just put your heart back?"  
"What? No, the damn thing was damaged beyond repair! Great big hole tore right the way through it." He pressed down on his chest and felt the metal object that kept him alive. "I may have put an old dwarven contraption in there instead. Works fine, although my blood is considerably warmer now."  
Elwyn was shocked. "What? You just put in a bit of metal and it worked?"  
"Not just any piece of metal! A dwarven dynamo core, used for maintaining life in dwarven automatons. It's worked for all of them for the past few thousand years, so I'm sure I'll live. Maybe for the next few thousand years."  
"So you're immortal?"  
"Literally no idea." Geryn smiled at her.  
"Oh." Elwyn sighed. "I don't understand how this is even works."  
Geryn laughed. "Me neither. You just kind of learn not to question it."  
Elwyn laughed, shaking her head. "Your lack of concern astonishes me."  
"So, am I forgiven?"  
"Eh, I suppose so. To be honest, I'm just glad you're okay."  
"Oh, I'm flattered."  
Elwyn looked over Geryn's shoulder at the bar. "You want a drink? I think I need an ale."  
Geryn nodded. "Not ale, though. Mead will do me just fine."  
Elwyn stood and began walking towards the bar, laughing slightly. "Suit yourself."  
Geryn watched her go. _I'm forgiven, _he thought, smiling.


	20. Chapter 20

Geryn was woken by the sound of J'zargo and Joric screaming from the room they had rented. He and Elwyn snapped their heads up from the table, at which they had both fallen asleep. Elwyn's brown hair was a sticky, ale soaked mess and it covered half of her face. They both looked at eachother. "You here that?" Elwyn nodded. They both ran to the room and found J'zargo stood, backed against the wall screaming at Joric, who was screaming in reply.  
After another scream of horror from J'zargo, Joric exclaimed "Stop! You aren't helping this head ache..." He gave another frustrated, pained scream, rubbing his temples.  
J'zargo was mortified. "But I..." He turned to Elwyn. "Why were we sharing a bed and why don't I remember? Did we-?"  
"J'zargo, no!" Exclaimed Elwyn, horrified at where this was going. She gestured to Geryn. "He just put you both in a bed, it just so happened that you shared it!"  
Both J'zargo and Joric simultaneously shouted "He's alive!?"  
"Hello!" Geryn waved, then gestured to his body. "Yep, still here and still alive!"  
J'zargo stared in shock, then began nodding. "Yes, I remember! That's why I fainted!" He smiled, looking relieved. "Thank the moons you're alive, looks like I'm _not _a killer after all!"  
"Geryn!" Joric beamed. "You're okay! You know, next time I think you're dead I should probably check first!" He laughed. "I won't fall for it again, my friend!"  
Geryn shrugged. "Well, I did actually die this time."  
"What?"  
"Very long story. Shall we leave? I'll explain along the way."  
Elwyn yawned. "Good idea. We'll want to get to Winterhold relatively soon..." She yawned again, stretching.  
Geryn was slightly confused. "Wait, why do you want to get to Winterhold?"  
"Got a brother, one of the mages up at the college..." She was half asleep and didn't bother to elaborate any further.  
"Right." Geryn turned towards the door. "Shall we be off then?" Everyone agreed, and they walked out of the inn. Elwyn, who evidently had not slept in a very long time, stopped and leaned on the doorframe as they exited.  
"I think I jus need to... rest..." Her eyes were drifting shut.  
Geryn walked over and put her arm over his shoulder. "Come on, let's get you onto my horse." He walked her over to where his horse was tied up and lifted her onto its back. "How much sleep did you get last night?"  
She yawned again, slumping in the saddle. "I don't know... two?" And with that nonsensical answer she began snoring, leaning into the horse's mane. Geryn grabbed the reins and walked the horse away from the inn, catching up to Joric and J'zargo, who were just leaving town.  
J'zargo looked up at the horse, then laughed when he saw Elwyn sleeping on its back. "I see she's a little bit tired."  
Geryn laughed slightly, walking alongside them. "You could say that, yes."  
"How much sleep did she get?"  
"_Two._"  
"What?"  
Geryn smiled. "That's what she said. _Two. _She's not too tired at all, I don't know what your talking about."  
Joric looked at them. "Quiet, the pair of you. Ugh, my head..." He began nursing his forehead.  
"So," Geryn began as they left the town behind and walked into the vast snowy planes. "I'm assuming you'll be wanting to here how I managed to get better."  
J'zargo nodded. "Yes, I do."  
Geryn patted Joric on the back. "Listen up! I'm not explaining this again..." Joric jumped, and Geryn explained exactly how he had been resurrected accidentally by the Briarheart, and how he was now being sustained by a dwarven dynamo core.  
J'zargo looked impressed. "Clever. Although J'zargo does not understand, are dynamo cores not incredibly large most of the time?"  
Geryn nodded. "True. You know I never thought about that." He looked down at his chest. "Well, I don't see a giant piece of metal sticking out from my chest so clearly this one was an exception."  
J'zargo was confused. "But why would the Dwemmer make a smaller version?"  
Geryn shrugged. "I don't know. There'll probably be a Dwemmer specialist at the college we can ask."  
J'zargo nodded. "Probably."  
Joric looked between the two of them. "You two are just confusing me... Bah, I'm not in a mood to care."  
Geryn grinned at him. "Bit hung over, Joric?"  
"Bah." Joric waved Geryn away, rubbing his eyes and head. Geryn shook his head, amused by Joric's current state. He looked up at Elwyn, seeing that she was still asleep and finding amusement in this also. He was slightly tired, but only slightly. He had, after all, been dead for a good 24 hours, so he supposed that that had made up for the lack of sleep he had had recently.  
They walked through the hold of The Pale for several hours, their pace significantly slowed by their exhaustion. After a while, however, their exit from the hold was signalled by a large mountain range that came into view. The road took them walking alongside it for another hour or so, taking them into Eastmarch. Geryn stopped and looked at his map, confused. He was sure the Pale would have been the last hold. Apparently not, however, as according to his map they were indeed in Eastmarch. J'zargo walked over and had a look. "This isn't the best hold for us to be in, you know."  
Geryn looked away from his map and at J'zargo, who was looking over his shoulder. "Why not?"  
Joric walked over, now recovered from hi night spent drinking. "Well, the nearest city is Windhelm, which is the Stormcloak capital. I'm sure you're both aware of the Stormcloak views on the three of you."  
Geryn nodded. "Yes, we've got two mages, none of which are Nords, a Wood Elf, who for whatever reason they'll associate with the Aldmeri Dominion and the Great War, and a Khajiit, who aren't trusted in any of Skyrim's cities." Geryn sighed, looking to the sky. It was getting dark. "Well, we may as well stay their anyway. It'll be the last good sleep we get before Winterhold and some of us might need it. He looked up at Elwyn, grinning. He lightly punched her foot, and she sleepily lulled awake.  
"Wha..." She stretched, then saw she was on a horse and was instantly more awake. "Oh gods, did I fall asleep?" She blushed. "I haven't held us up, have I?"  
Geryn laughed. "Don't worry, you needed it." He helped her down. "After all, you did only get _two _sleep."  
"What?"  
"I don't know, you said it."  
"I said that? Great." She looked at her surroundings. "So where are we?"  
"Eastmarch. We've decided we're going to stay in Windhelm tonight."  
Elwyn looked surprised. "Windhelm? Really? Are you sure that's wise?"  
"Well, it's the last good sleep we'll get before Winterhold so..."  
"Will they even let us in?"  
Geryn shrugged. "They probably will. They can't be _that _racist."  
Elwyn looked unconvinced. "I wouldn't be so sure..."  
"Well we may as well try." Geryn gestured to the rest of the group. "Let's go!"  
They all nodded, and a Nord, an Elf, a Breton and a Khajiit began walking to Windhelm, the most discriminative city likely in all of Tamriel.


	21. Chapter 21

Joric lead them towards Windhelm, Geryn taking up the rear and guiding his horse. They walked alongside the mountains for a while longer, eventually coming alongside the river Yorgrim. After a while the road turned and went over a bridge, taking them to the other side of the river. After a few minutes, Joric spotted a small party of Stormcloak soldiers on patrol. He turned around, stopping and panicking slightly. "Erm... will one of you do all the talking here?"  
Geryn called back. "I doubt they'll listen to a Breton."  
Elwyn nodded. "Or an Elf."  
J'zargo joined in. "And definitely not a Khajiit."  
Joric sounded nervous. "But what if they recognise me?"  
Geryn looked over at the Stormcloaks. They were nearly within earshot. "It doesn't matter, I'm sure you'll think of something!"  
"But I don't ever think of things!"  
Geryn rolled his eyes. "They're almost here, now! Just talk to them!"  
"Ah..."  
The Stormcloaks were very close. They stopped as well now, suspiciously placing hands on their weapons. Geryn beckoned Joric to keep walking, so he did. As they passed the Nords, one of them called over. "Joric!" Joric turned around nervously. "I thought for sure you died up at the border!"  
Joric stammered slightly, his voice trembling. "Ah, Ralof. Hello."  
Ralof laughed. "Yes, hello! So how did you survive, then?"  
Joric thought for a moment. "Erm... a healer found me. Yes, a healer found me and fixed me up!"  
Ralof spread his arms wide. "And is that healer with you today?"  
Geryn walked over and stood beside Joric. "Yes, I am."  
Ralof smiled, walking over and heartily patting Geryn on the back. "Well, thank you very much! You've saved this man's life, that's for sure!"  
One of the other Stormcloaks called over. "Hey, I wouldn't get too close! I heard that Bretons are part Elf, you might catch something!" The other Stormcloaks chuckled.  
Geryn looked at Ralof, who he liked, then at the Stormcloak, who he did not like. "Well, I heard that all Nords are intelligent! You have just proved that wrong, my friend! How do you feel?" The Stormcloaks laughed again, apparently open to any kind of verbal abuse.  
Ralof stepped in front of Geryn. "Now, now. No need to-" A rock hit the back of his head. He turned around. "Hey!"  
The Stormcloak had another rock in his hand. "Sorry, I was aiming at the half breed." He threw the rock in his hand, and this time it hit Geryn in the shoulder. "Hah! Got him! Not so cocky now, eh?"  
Geryn grinned, using telekinesis to quickly a stone slab from the road that the man was standing on into the air. The Nord did a small, amusing dance to stay on his feet. Geryn's face was covered with sarcastic concern. "Oh, how odd. I wonder how that happened! Probably a geyser underground somewhere. How unfortunate."  
The Stormcloak was furious. "Shut it, you damned foreigner! This our land, and you're not welcome on it!"  
Geryn laughed. "Well, legally speaking this land belongs to Emperor Titus Mede II, take it up with him if you're so concerned." Elwyn smirked at Geryn's smart comebacks.  
The Stormcloak picked up on Elwyn's amusement. "Hey, Elf! I don't know what you're smiling about, it's you kind that would see the Emperor overthrown!"  
Elwyn folded her arms. "Says the Stormcloak."  
"Go back to starting wars, Elven bitch!"  
Elwyn wasn't phased. "Ha! Like I say: Says the Stormcloak."  
"Did you just call me an Elven bitch?"  
J'zargo stepped forward. "Ah, the endless stream of intelligence you are producing is incredible. Please, enlighten us further."  
"What did you say, you damned cat? I'll feed that tail to you if you're not careful!"  
J'zargo grinned. "Or I could feed you _your _tail!"  
The Nord looked behind him. "What? I don't have a tail!"  
Elwyn shrugged. "You probably do, it's just too small to see."  
"No I don't!" He put his hands on his rear to make sure. "Well it must be really small! There's nothing I can feel!"  
J'zargo chuckled. "Oh, so mine is bigger than yours?"  
"Of course it is! I don't even have one!"  
Elwyn nodded. "We know."  
The Nord pulled out his great sword, which was as big as he was. "You're asking for trouble!"  
Geryn looked the blade up and down. "Compensating?"  
The Nord was furious. "What? You think you're so clever, using words I don't know, don't you?"  
Geryn nodded. "Well I _am _pretty clever."  
"How's this for clever?" The man dived forward, bringing his sword up into the air ready to drop onto Geryn's head.  
Geryn rolled his eyes and casually cast a ward in front of him, causing the Nord to glance off the blue light and hit the floor face first. Geryn held out his hand. "Need a hand?"  
The Nord slowly got to his feet. "No! I doubt you have the strength to help me up, you weak mage!"  
Geryn rolled his eyes. "Well, I can lift things relatively easily actually..." He sent another road slab out from under the Stormcloak's feet and into the air. Geryn, Elwyn and J'zargo laughed. Joric looked slightly awkward.  
The Nord was back on the floor again. Ralof intervened. "Now, now. Let's just leave this here..."  
"Alright..." Geryn gestured down the road, containing his laughter. "Come on, we shouldn't waste any more time."  
They walked away, continuing down the road. Ralof helped the enraged Nord to his feet, holding him back once he was up. They carried on walking to the sound of a constant stream of racist abuse, all laughing at the man's idiocy. They arrived outside Windhelm about an hour later, leaving the horse at the stables -which were ironically tended by an Elf- and approaching the huge city gates, which were being guarded by a pair of bulky Stormcloaks.


	22. Chapter 22

They walked across the massive bridge that lead up to Windhelm's entrance. Geryn approached the guards at the gate. "Can we go in?"  
"No." The guard sounded both rough and arrogant.  
"And why is that?" Geryn knew exactly why they couldn't go in, but asked anyway.  
The guard looked at them all. "Look, we've got enough foreigners in the city as it is. We don't want any more."  
Geryn stepped to one side, gesturing for Joric to come forward. "What about him?"  
The guard sounded annoyed. "I'm not stupid, I know that he'll just find some way to let the rest of you in."  
Geryn nodded. "Yeah, well you've got me there. Although, there is always this..." He pulled some coins out of his satchel.  
The other guard stepped forward. "Hey, let's be fair here."  
Geryn rolled his eyes, pulling out another handful of Septims. The guards both took the money, then one of them unlocked the gate and opened it about a foot. "Alright, get in. But if anyone asks we took a lot of persuading." Geryn lead the way in, but as J'zargo tried to follow he was halted. The guard pushed him away. "You, on the other hand, can keep out. We don't need you coughing up furballs in our city."  
Geryn was furious. "Let him-!"  
J'zargo cut him off. "Leave it, Geryn. There was a Khajiit caravan back at the end of the bridge that I shall stay with. Good luck in there."  
Geryn didn't like it, but he nodded and let J'zargo go. "Alright. Elwyn, Joric, let's get in there."  
They passed through the gate, the guard hastily closing and locking it again as soon as all three of them were through. The first building they came across, conveniently, was an inn. Geryn lead them up to the door, then looked at Joric. "You should lead the way in."  
Joric was surprised. "Me? Why?"  
Geryn looked around at the patrons who were stood outside. All of them were Nords. "I doubt they'll be too welcoming to Elwyn and me, you should make a good first impression on them."  
Joric nodded. "I suppose that makes sense..."  
Geryn gestured for him to lead them in. "Right, then. In you go!"  
Joric nodded nervously, then opened the front door and walked in. Geryn and Elwyn followed him, and Geryn was nearly knocked back outside again by the smell that assaulted his nostrils. "Ugh, ale..."  
Elwyn spoke quietly from behind him. "What's wrong?"  
"Nothing."  
Joric walked up to the bar. The innkeeper looked at him. "Welcome to _Candle Hearth Hall_, how can I help you?"  
Joric sounded nervous. "A place to stay, if you don't mind?"  
The woman smiled. "Of course!" Geryn and Elwyn joined Joric at the bar. "These aren't with you, are they?"  
"Well-"  
Geryn interrupted. "And if we are?"  
The woman looked at Geryn, wrinkling her nose as if his presence disgusted him. "Well, your kind are most certainly not welcome here, so I would ask anyone bringing their little pet foreigners onto my property to leave immediately."  
Geryn nodded. "I thought so. Don't worry, we aren't with him."  
Joric was confused. "But-" Geryn kicked him behind the bar. "Erm..." He looked at Geryn and Elwyn. "Uh, get away from me, erm, filthy foreigners! Yeah, I have those views."  
The woman nodded in agreement. "You heard the man, leave! Go to the grey quarter, with your other, damned minority friends!" Geryn winked at Joric as he made for the door, who gave a conspicuous thumbs-up in return. Luckily, the innkeeper never noticed as she was too busy glaring at the two people leaving her inn to take in anything that didn't revolve around her hatred for non-Nords.  
As Geryn and Elwyn stepped outside, Geryn looked around. "Now, where can we find this 'grey quarter'?"  
Elwyn looked back at the inn. "You're just going to let her do that? What if we have to sleep on the streets?"  
Geryn looked at her. "I'd rather one of us gets somewhere to sleep than none of us. Besides," He laughed. "You've already had _two _sleep, so you should be fine."  
"You're not going to let that go, are you?"  
"Never." They both laughed, then Geryn saw a Dark Elf. "Ah, someone who's likely to not hate us for being none-Nords! Let's go and ask him for directions, shall we?" They approached the Dunmer, who was heading to the east side of the town at quite a pace.  
Elwyn caught him. "Excuse me, do you happen to know where the Grey Quarter is?"  
The Dunmer looked offended. "What is that, a joke? Just because I'm a Dunmer?"  
Elwyn held up her hands. "Oh, no no no, that's not what I meant at all! We were just wondering because a Nord said that's where we belong."  
The Dunmer relaxed slightly, taking in Elwyn's angular features and pointed ears. "Ah, sorry. I didn't realise you were an Elf. Yes, I can show you where the grey quarter is, I was actually on my way there."  
Elwyn nodded gratefully. "Thank you very much, we need somewhere to stay and the Nord inn refused us."  
The Dunmer nodded, then laughed bitterly. "Ha! Of course they did, it's what Nords do! I've lived in this city for fifty years now, and they still don't trust me! Although it has taught me one useful thing."  
"Which is?"  
"Not to trust Nords. There are a couple of exceptions, but not many."  
Elwyn nodded, smiling slightly. "Yeah, a couple of exceptions."  
The Dunmer walked over to Geryn. "Ah, I see you're not from Skyrim either. Do you come from High Rock?"  
Geryn shook his head and the man's hand simultaneously. "Cyrodiil. Lived there since the day of my birth, almost twenty-one years ago..."  
"Twenty one? I sometimes forget how quickly you humans age, you look at least two-hundred in elven terms!"  
Elwyn was also surprised. "Ha! Back in Valenwood, you'd still be considered a child."  
Geryn stepped back slightly, putting his hands up in mock-defence. "Yes, alright, bully the youngest!" He grinned, putting his hand on his 'heart'. _I think I might age a little slower from now on, _he thought. "Anyway, my mortality aside, shall we get over to the grey quarter?"  
The Dunmer nodded. "Right. Come on, this way."  
They followed the man east, passing a great many judgemental Nords on their way. Eventually snow began falling, and Geryn pulled up his hood. Elwyn began shivering and hugging herself, and found Geryn's robe landing on her. She turned and saw Geryn in just his tunic, then smiled gratefully. "Thanks," She threw it back to him. "But I can cope. I appreciate it, however cliché that was." She laughed, and Geryn put his robe back on. She was still shivering.  
"You sure?"  
"Positive, mister chivalrous."  
The Dunmer turned around and looked at them both. He laughed. "Get a room, you two."  
Elwyn blushed. "Why would we need a room?"  
Geryn felt awkward, but still interjected. "Yeah! We don't need a room! We're not going to do that... thing... you're implying!" _Smooth, _he thought to himself, sarcastically.  
The Dunmer winked. "Sure." He lead them around a corner and they came to a large staircase leading downwards into a narrow alleyway, which was lined with deprived houses with traditional Dunmer lanterns and banners hanging outside them. The smell was awful, and there was dirt and what Geryn suspected to be rat urine in all the corners. "We're here, make yourselves at home." The man sounded grim, until he winked and added "Although not too at home." He pointed to a building on the corner of the alleyway. "That's the closest we have to an inn, you might be able to get a room there."  
Geryn shook his hand again. "Thank you, you've helped us out a lot."  
He smiled. "Not a problem." He then looked at the two of them. "Anyway, I'm off home. Goodbye!"  
Geryn and Elwyn waved at him as he entered a small, shabby stone building with red banners hanging above the door. Once he was gone, they headed towards the 'building he'd shown them, hoping for somewhere to stay for the night.


	23. Chapter 23

Geryn and Elwyn walked up to the front door of the building. A sign outside said _New Gnisis Corner Club. _They walked inside, and were greeted by a small room with only a bar and a few stools, with a Dunmer at the counter and a staircase leading upwards behind it. The Dark Elf looked up at his two visitors. "Welcome! Can I get you something to drink?"  
Geryn shook his head. "Actually, we were looking for a place to stay. Do you have any rooms to rent?"  
The man shook his head. "Sorry, this is a corner club, not an inn. Did you try the Nords' inn?"  
Elwyn nodded. "But do you think they'd let us in? I'm an Elf and he's part elf. You know what Nords can be like."  
The man nodded. "Yes, I know exactly what Nords can be like." He looked at Geryn. "How much are you willing to pay for a night? It's not exactly an inn, but it's better than sleeping out there."  
Geryn pulled 15 Septims out of his satchel. "Will this do?"  
The man eyed the coins hungrily, nodding quickly. "That will indeed do." Geryn placed the coins on the counter. "It's the room at the very top. I usually sleep there but you can have it for tonight."  
Geryn nodded. "Thank you. We'll be going up then." Geryn and Elwyn walked behind the bar and up the stairs, which lead into a storage room. They were confused, until Elwyn pointed out another staircase leading further up, which took them up to a small, low ceilinged room with a single, dirty window and a double bed. The room was cold and damp, and the wind got through the cracks in the window. Geryn sighed. "Well, it's better than nothing." He walked over and lay down on the bed, which creaked under his weight. "We'd best get some rest."  
Elwyn looked around. "But there's only one bed!"  
Geryn leapt up. "Oh, sorry! You can have it, I'll sleep on the floor." Geryn then thought of something. "Wait, you weren't suggesting-"  
Elwyn's eyes widened and her face reddened. "No! Gods, no, Geryn!"  
Geryn nodded, backing away from the bed. "Alright! Just making sure." He gestured towards the bed. "You going to lie down or am I going to have to lay you down myself?"  
Elwyn looked shocked. "Geryn!"  
Geryn suddenly realised what he'd said. "What? No, that's not what I meant at all!"  
Elwyn walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. She smiled. "I know."  
Geryn nodded, relieved. "Good, I don't want you thinking I'm a complete and utter-"  
"Geryn, it's fine. Honestly, it's fine."  
Geryn nodded, turning to try and look out of the grimy window. After an awkward silence, he opened it up, sticking his head out. "Looks like the snow's getting heavier."  
"Oh."  
Then, Geryn looked down, and he urgently gestured for Elwyn to come and look. "Look! Down there, at the door."  
Elwyn couldn't fit her head beside Geryn's, so she asked him "What? What's there?"  
Geryn came away from the window. "Stormcloaks. They want to get in. I think they're here for us!"  
"Why would they be here for us?"  
"Think about it, we're outsiders and we got in with a bribe. Not to mention what happened out on the road." He went over for another look. "Oh no, that's actually the soldier from the road! We have to get out!"  
Elwyn ran over and looked out of the window once Geryn had come away. Once she had confirmed what Geryn had said about the soldier, she looked up. "I've got an idea."  
Geryn turned away, his hands on the back of his head as he paced the room. "It's no use! They're blocking the entrance, we can't get out now! Our only hope is to fight our way out, and even then our chances are slim. We're beaten, Elwyn, we're going to rot in a Stormcloak prison or die in a few minutes!" He turned around to address her, but she was gone. "Elwyn?" An outstretched hand came down into the window. "Aha! Good thinking!" Geryn grinned at Elwyn's plan, running over and grabbing her hand. She pulled him out of the window and onto the flat rooftop. The wind blew them about and a sheet of ice covered the rooftops over, making standing very difficult. Elwyn and Geryn both shakily got to their feet, half crouching with their arms spread for balance, still holding onto each other's hands for support. The snow was very heavy, reaching near-blizzard conditions.  
Elwyn looked around. "We should make sure Joric's okay!" She shouted over the wind.  
Geryn nodded. "Okay! But how will we get to him?"  
Elwyn looked in the direction of Joric's inn, then back at Geryn. "I think I can get to him!"  
"How?"  
Elwyn grinned. "I grew up living up trees, back in Valenwood! I can easily move across a few rooftops, without even being seen!"  
"You're sure?"  
Elwyn nodded. "Trust me on this one!"  
Geryn looked in the direction of the inn. There were a lot of very big drops. "Just… be careful!"  
Elwyn slowly released Geryn's hand, who let go as well. "Careful?" She smiled. "Now where's the fun in that?" Her confident grin and stance were ruined slightly by the fact that she was shivering uncontrollably.  
Geryn shook his head. He took off his robe and threw it at her again. "At least take it now!" He grinned.  
Elwyn rolled her eyes, putting it on. "Alright! If it gets in the way then you'll find it on a rooftop somewhere!"  
Geryn laughed. "Great. I'll just wait up here then!" He sat on the floor, pulling his hood over his head and hugging his bare arms.  
She looked at the deep, narrow crevice that was the grey quarter, ready to leap over it. "Alright." She looked back at Geryn. "I won't be long!" She leapt over the gap, Geryn's robe billowing out behind her while Geryn watched, wincing as she jumped and sighing with relief when she landed safely. He watched her dart away, over the rooftops and in the direction of the inn.


	24. Chapter 24

Elwyn landed, on the other side of the alleyway, grateful that her boots hand decent grip. She heard Geryn's sigh of relief and chuckled to herself. He worried about her too much. A massive gust of wind send her hair haywire, and she began jogging across the roof she was on. She leapt between rooftops like a nimble cat, clearing most of the gaps with ease.  
The robe flapped about behind her, reminding her of its presence. She grinned, realising that her thin, sleeveless leather armour had offered no protection at all from the harsh, northern winds. _Sometimes, Geryn's worry can be very nice, _she smirked, and another gust of wind hit her, the robe protecting her arms and billowing out behind her. She realised that it improved her appearance greatly, making her look heroic as it flew behind hew like a cape. She grinned.  
She made it to another gap, wider this time, too wide for her to jump. She looked around, seeing a washing line going between two windows a few feet to her right. Seeing no other way, she ran over to where it was. It was about a metre below the rooftops, so she leapt down onto it, half clearing the gap, then sprung off it again, grabbing the next roof and hauling herself onto it. She got to her feet, then ran again.  
She saw that she was fast approaching the large open area that held the inn, and realised that she would have to find a way down. She looked over the edge of the three story house she was on top of. Below her were two Stormcloaks, looking like they were arguing about something. She listened in, lying down to get as low down as possible.  
"…like it at all!" Elwyn caught the end of the first man's sentence. He sounded uncertain and slightly nervous.  
"I don't care if you don't like it, these are Galmar's orders!" The second man was clearly of higher status, and sounded annoyed.  
"But he's a Nord! And a Stormcloak!"  
"So what if he's a Nord? Need I remind you he is a deserter to the Stormcloaks?"  
"But surely we can… accidentally let him escape?"  
"Are you proposing we lie to Galmar and let him get away? He assaulted one of our men!" Elwyn grew worried. _Surely they aren't talking about-  
_"Nobody likes him anyway! I heard Ralof even let it all happen! Surely he brought it upon himself?" Elwyn's eyes widened. _They are talking about him! So that Stormcloak bastard blamed Joric for that, did he? It was Geryn, J'zargo and me!  
_The second man sounded frustrated. "He entered the city on a bribe!"  
"But Nords are allowed in!"  
"Nord or not, he let a Breton and an _Elf _into Windhelm!"  
Elwyn had heard enough. Besides, she had thought of a way down. Before anymore could be said, she slid off the rooftop and landed hard on one of the Nords' shoulders. He yelped in surprise, his legs giving way and Elwyn's fist landing on his head, knocking him unconscious. Elwyn looked up and punched the second man in the face before he could react. He hit the floor, out cold. Elwyn stood up, brushing the snow and dust off her –well, Geryn's- robe and rolling the two unconscious men into a nearby bush. She pulled out a few spare bowstrings she carried on her at all times and quickly tied and gagged them both, in case they woke up.  
She turned to face the inn. She realised that she would have to find a way in. She looked it up and down but saw no back entrance, so thought for a while. Eventually, she thought of a very risky plan. She looked at the two Stormcloaks, taking one of their axes and strapping it to her hip. She covered her face in dirt and dust, obscuring her angular, elven features and messed about with her hair, covering over her ears and making herself look worn and bedraggled. She pulled one of the Stormcloaks' blue, Nordic tunics off and tied it around her waste, tearing it and giving her a savage, vicious look. Disguise complete, she headed into the inn.  
She approached the bar, looking up at the innkeeper. She impersonated, quite impressively, a Nordic accent as she spoke. "A man rent a room here?" She tried not to show off her face too much, letting her hair fall in front of it slightly.  
The woman behind the bar eyed her up suspiciously. "A lot of men rent rooms here."  
"I know that, I mean a particular man!" She spoke aggressively, getting into character.  
"Alright, keep your hair on! What did this man look like?"  
Elwyn contained her relief. The woman was buying it. "Thick red beard, messy hair, Nord?"  
"Of course he was a Nord, we only allow Nords in here!"  
Elwyn nodded. "I know, I know! I bet you get a lot of the lesser races coming in here and trying to drain this city of everything it has, don't you?" She didn't like being so discriminative, but she reminded herself that it was only acting.  
The woman sighed. "Oh, you have no idea! You know, only an hour or so ago I had a Breton and an Elf -Yes that's right, an _Elf_- wanting to stay here! Can you imagine? As if I'd let their kind stay here!"  
Elwyn gave a small, arrogant sounding laugh and cringed inwardly at what she saying. "Ha! Damned foreigners, trying to scam us out of everything we own!" She calmed down slightly, becoming less aggressive. "But anyway, did you let the man I described stay here? I'm supposed to be meeting him."  
The innkeeper smiled. "I'll tell you, because we're so alike. Yeah, I let him stay. It's the room at the end of the corridor, on the left."  
Elwyn smiled, turning and walking away. She dropped her character with relief, coming to Joric's door and walking in.


	25. Chapter 25

Elwyn stepped inside Joric's room and found him asleep. She rushed over to his bedside, shaking him awake. He groaned, and she realised he smelled of ale. "Joric!" She whispered, back to speaking in her own accent. "Joric, get up. Quickly!"  
Joric groaned again, rolling over and turning away from Elwyn. "Not now… I need a few minutes…"  
She put a hand on his shoulder and violently thrust him back to facing her. "We may not have a few more minutes! The guards are looking for us, we need to leave!"  
Joric's half-shut eyes instantly bolted open. "What?" He sounded panicked. "But what did we do?"  
Elwyn sighed with frustration. "We got in illegally, remember? Come on, I've already knocked two guards unconscious, it's only a matter of time before we're found!"  
Joric forced himself up, slowly rising out of the bed and standing. He looked at Elwyn, confused. "Are you wearing Geryn's clothes?"  
Elwyn smiled. "Yeah, I'm wearing his robe." She heard the door to the inn violently jerking open. A Nord man could be heard, demanding Joric. "Damn! I'm too late, they've arrived! We've got to find a way out of here, now!" She looked at Joric, who looked desperate and panicked, then at the room's only window. She looked him up and down. "I don't suppose you'll fit out the window, will you?"  
Joric looked at the window, then back at Elwyn. "You're going to, though, aren't you?"  
She looked offended. "I'm not just going to leave you!" She thought for a moment, then looked at the door. "We could block off the door so they can't get in!"  
"But we couldn't get out!"  
"I could."  
"So you are going to leave me!" Joric sounded both hurt and angry.  
"No, listen. I've got a plan." She looked at the bed. "Help me get that in front of the door!"  
"But I'll be trapped!"  
"I'll sort that out! Just do as I say and trust me!" She began to push the bed, struggling greatly. Joric ran over and helped, and the Nord's strength got the job done in no time at all. Elwyn looked at the door, which was only slightly blocked. "Now move the rest of the furniture!" Joric nodded, and they both began placing furniture on and behind the bed, creating a strong, reinforced barrier. It was slightly shifty, but they ran out of time when the door moved a fraction.  
A voice commanded from outside "Open this door, deserter!" Joric looked to Elwyn for help. She gave him a reassuring pat on the arm, and then turned and climbed out of the small, open window.  
Once outside, Elwyn silently moved around the inn, back to the front entrance. Two Stormcloaks were stood outside, absorbed in conversation. She thought about sneaking by them, but decided against it. It was too risky.  
She pulled her bow off her shoulder and knocked two arrows. Unseen, she drew back her bow with a satisfying, quiet creak and loosed the two arrows. Both the men took them in the throat and were dead within seconds, their blood staining the snow on the ground. Elwyn put her bow back over her shoulder, silently running inside the inn.

Geryn sat down on the rooftop, worrying about Elwyn. He had let her go off on her own, in a dangerous and potentially deadly environment with no idea of her skills in combat and no way of finding out if she was successful. He had watched her glide away over the rooftops until the snow had obscured her from his field of vision and he had lost sight of her. He realised that she may have even fallen off one of the rooftops, considering he hadn't even seen her come down, and sighed with worry.  
He heard shouts in the room bellow him. He placed an ear to the roof and listened to what was being said. He heard the Bartender talking. "I swear they were never here! I don't know why you're looking here! This isn't even an inn!"  
He heard the Stormcloak from earlier bark a reply. "I don't believe you, you filthy, lying Greyskin! Tell me where they are and you'll only lose one of those precious, pointed ears!"  
"I… I don't know!"  
"Liar!" The voice was right by the window.  
The Dunmer sounded desperate now. "Listen, I honestly don't know where they are! So if you could please leave this establishment and-"  
"Leave? Why should I? Your kind don't leave when we tell you to!" The man was definitely within an arm's reach of the window, and sounded like he had his back to it. Geryn tied his feet to the chimney using his satchel, then dangled down in the window. He saw the Stormcloak right in front of him, and reached forward, grabbing him and dragging him towards the window. He screamed in rage. "Get your hands off me!" He turned and saw Geryn. "You! So you were here! Ha! I win!" He swung for Geryn, throwing his bodyweight towards the window. Last mistake. Geryn pulled, and the man flew out of the window. He hit the ground with a cold, wet thud, the men who were guarding the door rushing over to look.  
Geryn looked at the Bartender, who looked stunned. The Dunmer finally found his voice. "Thank you, thank you!" He rushed over, awkwardly shaking Geryn's upside-down hand. "Is there any way I can repay you?"  
Geryn's head hurt from being upside-down for so long. "Yes, if you could let me back up that'd be nice." His voice sounded strained.  
"Oh, by all means, go back up there."  
Geryn grinned. "Thanks." He grabbed his satchel and reeled himself back up. He sat up on the roof, then looked over the edge to see two Stormcloaks kneeling over the body that had fallen from the sky. He sighed, not proud to have killed the man.

Elwyn loosed off an arrow as soon as she got inside the inn. The innkeeper screamed as she heard the Nord down the corridor hit the floor. She stared at Elwyn in horror. "Y-You're not a Nord! You're an Elf! The one form earlier!"  
Two arrows hit the wall behind her, either side of her head. Elwyn drew another. "Quiet, or I send you to Oblivion!" The woman obliged, resisting the urge to say anymore. Elwyn put the arrow and her bow back in their places again, then ran over to Joric's door. "It's okay to come out now, he's dead!" She heard a loud, tumbling clatter and a curse from Joric. She then heard the bed scraping away from the door, and it opened to reveal Joric, who looked relieved. "Come on!" Elwyn gestured for him to get out. "We need to find Geryn and leave!"


	26. Chapter 26

Elwyn and Joric ran through the streets of Windhelm towards the grey quarter. Elwyn rounded a corner, colliding with a Stormcloak and causing them both to fall over backwards. He didn't seem to know who Elwyn was. "Hey, watch where you're going, Elf!" He got up, brushing himself down and scowling. He continued walking past Elwyn and Joric, and they continued running in the other direction. They went undisturbed after that, right up until they reached the corner club. The two Stormcloaks looked up from their fallen companion.  
One of them pulled out his battle axe. "There! That's two of them! Get them!"  
Elwyn drew back her bow. "Stay back."  
The man took a step forward. "I'm not scared of you, Elf!"  
Elwyn kept her bow aimed at him. "The feeling's mutual."  
The man looked at Joric. "Hey! Why don't you fight me, eh? Man on man? Nord on Nord?"  
Joric didn't draw his axe, nor did he cower. "There's no need."  
Elwyn turned around and looked at him. In an instant, the Stormcloak was on her, knocking her to the ground and lifting his axe up to kill her. She yelped, turning back around and hitting the man across the face with her bow. The axe came down, narrowly missing Elwyn's ear and clanging loudly on the floor. She hit him again, this time following it up my kicking him off her with both feet. She jumped to her feet, reaching back for an arrow. Her quiver was empty. It must have spilled out in the first struggle.  
He swung for her again, sideways this time, and she ducked underneath it. She punched him in the stomach, winding him. He bent down and she punched him in the face. He staggered back, blood dripping from his nose. She looked around for a way to defend herself. The other Stormcloak, who was still trying to wake the corpse on the ground, had a sword strapped to his hip. She knew how to use a sword, she had trained when she was learning to hunt Back in Valenwood. She looked up to the rooftop.  
"Geryn!"  
He crawled over to the edge. "Yes?"  
She gestured towards the sword. "Could you pass me that? You can do that with magic, right?"  
Geryn nodded. "Right!" He pointed his hand at the sword and made a flicking motion towards Elwyn. The blade spun through the air and landed in her hand. Its owner watched, then fled in terror. Before Elwyn could offer any thanks, the Stormcloak was upon her again.  
He brought the axe down, aiming for Elwyn's head. She blocked it, meeting the weapon with her own. She pushed against the axe and the man stumbled backwards. She swung for him, but he caught her sword arm and stopped it dead. She tried to shake free but he punched her hard in the nose with his axe hand before she could. Her head jerked backwards and tears clouded her vision. She kneed him swiftly in the groin in retaliation, and he let go of her arm, crying out in pain. She lunged in for a stab, narrowly missing him as he dodged it just in time.  
He swung his axe at her again, but she jumped backwards and avoided the lethal blade. She realised that Joric had not attempted to help her in any way. "Joric! A bit of help?"  
"I don't know what to do!"  
"Kill him!"  
"I…" She heard him pull out his axe. "I'll take him!" Joric rushed forward and kicked the man in the chest, knocking him away from Elwyn. She nodded her thanks, then wiped the blood and tears away from her face with her sleeve. Geryn's robe now had a huge blood stain on the right arm. Elwyn looked back to where Joric was and saw him holding his own against the Stormcloak. They fought like mud crabs, Elwyn thought, as they circled around each other with their axes primed, every once in a while one swinging for the other and being blocked.  
Elwyn looked at Joric and saw that his usual fear and nerves were gone, replaced by determination and bravery. She raised her sword in front of her again. "Need a hand?"  
Joric brought his axe into the air and back down again, breaking through the guard's block and embedding his axe deep in his skull. "No. I think I got him."  
Elwyn grimaced at the sound of the axe sliding free of the man's pulverised brain and shattered skull. "Yeah, I noticed." Elwyn looked at the two bodies on the floor. "Oh no. Now we're going to be the most wanted people in Windhelm. We need to leave. Now!"  
Geryn peaked down from his perch on the roof. "And how do you suppose I do that?"  
Elwyn sighed, realising that she'd have to help Geryn down. "Hang on, I'll help you out." She ran inside the corner club again and went up to the top floor.  
The bartender was there, a look of terror fixed on his face. "Are they gone?"  
Elwyn looked at him, then ran to the window. "The Stormcloaks? Yeah, they're gone." As she climbed out of the window she heard a sigh of relief. She didn't listen anymore as she clambered onto the roof, finding Geryn sitting down on the ice.  
"Ah! You're here. How do I get down, then?"  
Elwyn looked around, looking for an easy way down. "I don't know, I can't see a way." She looked to the back of the building and saw that it was backed against the city wall. She ran over to the wall and climbed onto it, seeing that a huge hill of pure snow was leaned up against the wall. "We could jump."  
Geryn looked down at Joric. "But what about Joric? He couldn't fit through the window."  
Elwyn got back onto the building and looked down at Joric. "You're right. We need another way." She thought as much as she could but couldn't think of anything that didn't involve leaving Joric behind.  
Then she heard him shout. "Someone's just gone and told the gaurds!"  
She looked back down again. "What?"  
"A Nord jut saw the bodies and ran for the guards. They'll be coming for me."  
"Dammit!" She looked across the city to the Palace of The Kings, where the guard barracks would likely be. It wasn't far. "We don't have long!" She could hear shouting coming closer and closer, along with the hurried, heavy footsteps of a group of armoured men.  
Geryn looked down desperately. "Run, Joric! Get out of here!"  
His voice began to tremble. "They're on both sides. I can hear them!" He was right. There was nowhere to go.  
Geryn wouldn't let him give in. "Try and climb up here!"  
Joric shook his head, holding his axe in both hands defiantly but shakily. "No. You go!" The guards arrived, around five of them on each side. "I've got this!"  
"Joric, no!" The guards began walking towards him.  
Joric gave Geryn a reassuring laugh. "Don't worry about me! I'm not afraid anymore!" He looked at the guards around him, running to the entrance of the corner club for better coverage as the two groups of guards ran at him, obscuring him from view. Geryn wouldn't believe it. He heard Joric defiantly cry out "Sovngarde awaits me!" as he was absorbed by the throng of guards, and the sound of several Stormcloaks dying one after the other was heard.  
"No!" Geryn tried desperately to get back inside to help him, dangling his legs over the edge and trying to get them in the window.  
Elwyn grabbed his forearm and pulled him back up. "Geryn, no! He's gone, now don't let it be in vain!" Geryn nodded, shocked, and they ran over and climbed onto the city wall, Elwyn having to push Geryn off to make him move, his thoughts and feelings absorbing him for a second. They hit the snow a few feet below them and slid down the bank almost silently, Geryn not speaking and barely even breathing the whole time.


	27. Chapter 27

They slid to the bottom of the bank and reached the edge of the partly frozen river that ran around Windhelm. Geryn sat staring for a while, barely moving while he sat contemplating for a while. Elwyn, who was about to go across the river on a piece of ice, turned and saw that he wasn't following her. She ran back to him, helping him to his feet and putting a consoling arm around him. "Come on," She pointed across the river. "J'zargo's just across, we need to get to him so we can go." She saw that he wasn't responding to her. She sighed. "Listen, Geryn, I'm going to miss Joric too but we don't have time right now. We need to use the window he created for us and get out of Eastmarch as fast as we can."  
Geryn shook his head. "I… I don't know why this has affected me so much…"  
"He was your friend. You're bound to be affected badly…"  
"But I barely knew him. I saved his life more than he saved mine. He wasn't the best man I'd ever known…."  
"But he wasn't the worst, was he?"  
"Far from it… I just don't understand. I think it's just because he died saving us, even though he was scared of his own shadow. He must have been fond of us."  
Elwyn smiled. "I think h was more fond of you than he was of anyone else."  
"Yeah… but he's gone now, and he's not coming back…" Geryn sighed sadly, close to tears.  
Elwyn began guiding him towards the river. "I know… come on, let's get to J'zargo so we can get away from here." Geryn didn't say any more, and Elwyn guided him to the thick sheet of ice that spanned across the river. They walked slowly across it, careful not to slip over. They got across and walked up the bank to where they could see the fire from the Khajiit camp.  
They approached and found J'zargo sat on his own, warming his hands by the fire. He turned around and smiled at them, then suddenly became worried. "What are you doing here? I thought you were staying in the city." He looked behind them. "Where's Joric?" The worry entered his voice even more.  
Geryn sat across the fire from him. "Gone."  
J'zargo looked shocked. "What? What happened?"  
Geryn put his head in his hands. "He was brave… I wanted to do something but I couldn't…"  
Elwyn put a hand on his shoulder. "Geryn, it's not your fault he's dead."  
Geryn spoke quietly. "Don't say that."  
"What?"  
"That. Don't say he's dead. We don't know that…"  
Joric looked at Elwyn. "There's a chance he's alive?"  
Elwyn shook her head. "There were about ten of them on him. We never saw what happened, but…"  
J'zargo shook his head. "By the moons… why?"  
Geryn looked up at him, smiling bitterly. "He decided to brave… he decided to be brave and it got him killed." Geryn laughed, even more bitter than before. "The thing is, I always wanted him to be more brave… more useful to us… and he was… and now he's gone."  
Elwyn looked around. "Where are all of the other Khajiit?"  
J'zargo sighed. "They went to bed. They needed someone to watch the fire, so I volunteered." He looked at Windhelm. "Joric… I remember him always running away from his problems…"  
Elwyn sat down beside Geryn. "Well at least he died honourably." She reached onto her back, finding neither a bow now arrows, just an empty quiver. "Great, I've lost all my weapons." She sighed, miserably. "That bow was a gift from my father, you know. Must have been one hundred and fifty years ago now, when I was only fifty. Gods, seems like a lifetime ago…" She looked at J'zargo and Geryn. She laughed. "I suppose it'd be two lifetimes ago for you two." She saw something out of the corner of her eye. She looked up, seeing several dark figures moving towards them across the bridge. She muttered to herself "Oh, no no no. No now!" and jumped to her feet, feeling Geryn's robe flowing behind her. She threw it back onto him, and he smiled. Before he could say anything, she dragged the two of them to their feet. "We have to go!"  
J'zargo looked at the tents. "But-"  
"There's no time! Guards are coming for us, they must have found the rest of the bodies!"  
J'zargo was shocked. "The rest of-"  
"No time! Let's move, now!" They ran away from the camp, off the road and over the snowy hill behind them. Elwyn, who seemed to be the only one out the three of them actually doing something, looked at the stables, where Geryn's horse was tied up. "We need to get the horse! We can get away quicker, that way!" She saw the guards run past it and begin searching around the camp. "I'll sneak over and get it then pick you two up, okay?" Geryn and J'zargo nodded, and she climbed back over the bank of snow and silently glided over the road and to the stables. She saw Geryn's horse, then came to a dilemma. How would she escape with it, unseen?  
She looked around, and saw the torch used to light the stables. She pulled it out of its sconce, looked around for somewhere to throw it. She saw a fallen, rotten and dry tree. _Perfect. _She lobbed the torch, watching it arcing through the air and landing on the log. She smiled, satisfied with her shot. The tree quickly went up in flames, melting the snow around it and getting the attention of the guards.  
She climbed onto the horse's back and rode over to where Geryn and J'zargo were hiddedn, helping them onto the horse. It snorted slightly at the extra weight, but it was a Skyrim horse, and it could take it. They galloped away from the scene, the guards still too distracted by the fire to notice that their quarries were escaping. Elwyn smiled. They had escaped.


	28. Chapter 28

The horse began to slow, tiring of galloping with so many passengers. Elwyn looked around, seeing that they seemed to be in a safe area. "Alright, may as well get off now." She dismounted, followed by Geryn and J'zargo. The horse pawed the ground, then lay down, exhausted. Geryn looked around, not recognising the location they were in. He turned to Elwyn. "Where are we?"  
She looked around. I don't know. The horse kind of just ran away from the smoke. I don't know where it's taken us…" Geryn looked around at their surroundings. There were mountains to the right of them, and to the left was a small copse of snowy covered pine trees, behind which was a large lake. There was a road a little bit behind them that lead up and through the mountains.  
Geryn pulled out his map, looking for something that could indicate their location. He looked up from it. "I think we're at Lake Yorgrim." He stated. He pointed to the road through the mountains. "That should take us to the college. There's a small fort up there, though, and it's probably Stormcloak. We should be careful."  
Elwyn nodded, smiling slightly. Geryn seemed to be somewhat back to normal, and she was glad. "What about the horse?" She asked, looking at the poor, exhausted animal with sympathy.  
Geryn sighed. "Well, we could see how it is in the morning. We may as well camp here anyway, the Stormcloaks have probably given up by now anyway, and it's not like any of us have slept decently."  
J'zargo nodded. "Shall J'zargo start a campfire?"  
Geryn nodded, and soon they had a small campfire prepared, just off the road. Geryn took the horse to the stream for a drink, and eventually they all got to sleep around the fire.

When morning came, Geryn was woken by the sound of the birds chirping. He groggily got to his feet, looking around and realising that something was missing. He examined each person around him. Elwyn and J'zargo were there, so nobody -well, nobody alive- was gone, and suddenly he realised that the horse wasn't around. He woke his friends, and told them. Elwyn sighed. "He'd probably had enough of us, we overworked him a little last night." She saw his tracks, which were dragged somewhat. "Poor thing. It probably won't survive alone out there. I hope somebody finds him."  
Geryn sighed. "Well, there's no use standing here wasting time. We may as well get a move on."  
J'zargo nodded. "Yes. Up that road, did you say?"  
Geryn nodded. "It won't take long for us to reach that fort, though. We'd better be careful." Elwyn and J'zargo agreed, and they began walking, kicking snow onto the fire to put it out.  
The road took them up into the mountains, where it was incredibly loud and windy and the snow swirled around them, almost at the point of a blizzard. The mountains either side of them were not the tallest in Skyrim, but they were large. After not long at all Geryn halted them, guiding them to hide in a small, snowy ditch by the road. J'zargo and Elwyn were confused. Elwyn looked over the edge of the ditch. "What is it?"  
"The fort."  
"I didn't see anything."  
"I did."  
Elwyn sighed. "Right, well I'm going up for a better look." She climbed out of the ditch and left J'zargo and Geryn behind.  
Geryn tried to stop her, but to no avail. "Elwyn, no! It might be dangerous up-" She was already out of earshot. Geryn sighed. "Never mind." The two of them sat around for a few minutes, waiting around for Elwyn to return. Geryn froze, thinking he heard her shouting. "You hear that?"  
J'zargo nodded. "It sounded like Elwyn." At that point, she returned, clutching her right arm. Her hand was covered in blood, and an arrow sprouted from between her fingers. "Gods, Elwyn! Get down here!" She did, collapsing into the ditch and leaning against its bank, panting. Geryn was concerned. "What happened?"  
She stopped panting for a brief moment. "I got close… and they shot me."  
Geryn nodded. "I gathered. Did you see who it was?"  
Elwyn looked at him. She had fear in her eyes. "Don't call me crazy for this, but it looked like a skeleton."  
Geryn was surprised. "A skeleton? You're sure?"  
Elwyn pulled on the arrow, then winced. "Well it wasn't a Stormcloak, that's for damn sure."  
J'zargo looked worried. "Geryn, do you think it's necromancers?"  
The thought hadn't crossed his mind. "Maybe…" He looked at the arrow in Elwyn's arm. "Are you okay?"  
"Well no, obviously." She sounded irritable.  
"Sorry, that wasn't a great question. I meant to ask if it feels particularly bad. Like, worse than it should be bad."  
She pulled again, wincing again. "No… but I can't get it out!" She tried again, the sound of the arrowhead moving about in her flesh making Geryn feel sick. "Can you heal it?"  
Geryn shook his head. "Not while the arrow's still in there." He looked out over the bank. "J'zargo, while I'm gone can you try and help her get that arrow out?"  
J'zargo nodded. "Yes, I'll try." He then realised what Geryn had said. "Wait, where are you going?"  
Geryn sighed. "I thought it was obvious. I'm going over to the fort."  
"Why?" J'zargo sounded concerned.  
"Well, we need to get past so I'd rather know what it is that occupies that place. And why."  
J'zargo was confused. "But why 'why'?"  
Geryn grew very serious. "If it is necromancers then they'll have a reason for being here. They're mages, and to be a mage takes intelligence. They aren't just here on a whim."  
J'zargo nodded. "Right. So how are you going to find out?"  
Geryn shrugged. "It'll come to me when it comes to me." He looked at Elwyn. "You okay?"  
She nodded, wincing as clearly the pain had increased. "Just hurry it up, this is getting painful." He voice sounded strained. Geryn nodded, and he climbed over the bank and ran towards the fort, ducking and trying to stay as hidden and silent as possible.


End file.
